Justice University
by brooding jokester
Summary: Justice League as college students, with special emphasis on Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman
1. New Arrivals

NEW ARRIVALS

"Hi Lois!" Lois lane turned in her place in the cafeteria line to see Catherine Grant grinning at her.

"Hi Cat." Lois replied with an inward groan. She had been with Cat in high school, and now it seemed they were going to be together in college as well. Although Lois considered Cat a friend, she was a little hard to stand at times, with her somewhat snide nature, and her virtual obsession with men.

"Let me guess, you've taken literary honours and media communication too, right?" Cat said. Lois nodded and stared ahead as the line inched forward.

"So, wanna know what I've heard about our fellow first years?" Cat asked in an enticing whisper.

Lois's ears pricked up immediately. It was this fact more than any other which had drawn the two together in high school. Cat loved to gossip and find out everyone's dirty secrets. Lois disliked gossip but she was addicted to finding out the truth about people and events. In fact, she had already seen that there was a college newspaper which she was considering joining.

"What do you know?" she asked, leaning back slightly to listen better.

"Well, you see that guy?" Cat whispered, pointing towards a tall, handsome student with blond hair and broad shoulders who was walking towards a table with an arrogant stride. "His name is Arthur Curry. His dad's the owner of the biggest line of boats, ships and other sea stuff in metropolis. He practically owns the oceans around here. And that guy sitting over there," Cat pointed at a very tall African student with close cropped hair, who was sitting at a table alone, eating lunch. "His name is John Jones. His entire family was murdered in a civil war in Africa a year ago. He was sent to America on a scholarship by a UN peace keeping program. And that guy over there" Cat nodded towards a slim, red haired student who had just walked into the cafeteria. "Wally West. I heard Coach Travis say he was _the_ fastest runner he has ever seen. He could've tried out for the Olympics, but he wanted to get through college first.

Lois digested all this information in silence, with occasional nods. It seemed they had some interesting classmates.

"What about him?" Lois asked in a whisper, pointing at a guy who was also sitting alone at a table, his back turned to them. She wasn't the only one who was looking at him. Several girls were shooting him interested glances, some walking past his table repeatedly to get his attention. But he ignored them all.

"Ah, yes." Cat said with a coy grin. "I was saving him for last. Ever heard of Wayne industries?"

"Of course." Lois said. Wayne industries was the biggest company in Gotham. It owned practically every shop and product in Gotham, and had a global market in terms of weapons engineering.

"Well, meet Bruce Wayne, heir to the fabulous Wayne fortune, and the richest kid in the college. He's a loner by nature, has very few friends and takes part in no extracurricular activities. His list of subjects is too large to remember, and he has also opted for special courses in criminal psychology." Cat reeled off, proud of having found out so much about the guy the whole school was buzzing about.

Bruce Wayne rose with his empty tray and turned to face them. Lois saw jet black hair and cool blue eyes in a face that seemed to be carved out of marble, with a chiselled jaw, and high cheekbones. He was wearing a close fitting and obviously expensive jacket, which showed off his lean, muscular physique perfectly.

Cat sighed as he passed by them, following him with her eyes. "What he would look like without his shirt." She said dreamily.

Lois, who was being given a lump of soggy, brown food by the lunch lady, snorted. She turned to say something to Cat, but collided with a student who was coming in from the left.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The boy said, bending to retrieve her soda bottle. "Er, I'm afraid your food's gone. I'm really sorry."

"That's okay; it's not a big loss." Lois said. She took back the bottle and was conscious of a very tall and skinny person with thick glasses, who was staring at her guiltily. She smiled at him reassuringly for a second, then turned back to Cat.

"Err, well, I don't think I've introduced myself, my name is Clark Ke-"

"Yeah, okay, sure." Lois said absently, wanting to resume her conversation with Cat. She wondered where she could sign up for the newspaper.

Clark Kent sighed, lowering the hand he had offered Lois, and fixed his glasses more securely on his nose. He took the spoon he had come for and returned to his empty table. College was proving more difficult than he had imagined. He had never left his home in smallville before. So far, people seemed prone to confuse him with the background most of the time. Clark was never fond of the limelight so he did not really mind, but it was getting harder to make friends.

"Missing home again, Kent?" Clark looked up to see Bruce Wayne strolling over to his table and sitting in the chair opposite him, looking at him critically.

"Good morning to you too, Bruce." Clark replied with a wry smile. So far, Bruce was the only friend he had in college, although Bruce preferred to think of them as merely acquaintances. He was paranoid about keeping everyone at arm's lenght, and not letting anyone into his private life.

"So what's the matter, missing the boy scouts club back home?" Bruce asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Just depression in general." Clark admitted. "Not a very friendly place, college. Although I suppose it's different for the son of Mr. Thomas Wayne." He added. And it was true. Lots of students seemed surprised he should be speaking to the aloof Mr. Wayne, and were now staring at him in interest.

Bruce grimaced. "Bunch of gawking idiots." He muttered. Then a smirk appeared on his face. "I think they'd be more interested if they found out your secret."

"Bruce" Clark said warningly. "We talked about this..."

"Oh come on Clark." Bruce said, enjoying himself. "I'm sure all the students will be thrilled to know they're studying with the son of the mayor of metropolis."

"Keep your voice down." Clark implored. "You know my parents and I decided to keep that under wraps. It's a security risk. Plus, it's really annoying how they stare at you. I don't want that too."

"Fine, if you insist." Bruce conceded, sitting back with a grin.

When Jonathan Kent was elected mayor of metropolis, there was a huge publicity show, since the story of a small farmer rising to such heights was one that appealed to everyone. But Jonathan had kept his family away from the spotlight, allowing them to lead their normal lives.

During a charity function, Jonathan had taken Clark to the party. Clark had felt uncomfortable in the opulent surroundings, and had gone to sit in a corner of the room. He had been joined shortly by another boy. Perhaps because they were the only two of the same age there, they fell to talking, in a conversation that grew engrossing on both ends. After talking for more than an hour, they had parted, finally introducing themselves as Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne.

Since then, the two had become friends, meeting regularly, sharing the very different viewpoints they had on life.

"Well, I have to get to class now." Bruce said, rising abruptly from his seat.

"Good to have you dropping by." Clark said. "Oh, and thanks for checking up on me." He added.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Bruce said loftily.

After knowing each other for a few months, Bruce had told Clark about the mugging that had taken both his parents from him, so that the only family he had left was his uncle Razal Gul. In return, Clark had told him about the disease that had ravaged his body a year ago, weakening him greatly, and turning him into a walking skeleton. Ever since finding out about this, Bruce had found some excuse to check up on him, since there was a possiblity of a relapse, and Clark was still on medication. Although Bruce would deny the "checking up" charge vigorously.

"I came because I was bored." Bruce said, as he prepared to leave. "All the other guys can't seem to be able to think past partying and girls. Apparently, some guy beat up two other guys because they wanted to ask out some first year girl he liked. But then when he asked her, she turned him down too."

"That's pretty sad." Clark said with a laugh. "Who's the femme fatale?"

"Some girl named Diana Prince."

_**My novel, Neel Dervin and the Dark Angel, is available for free on Amazon this Saturday and Sunday, 9th and 10th february, 2013. **_


	2. Heroes And Superheroes

HEROES AND SUPERHEROES

A few months had gone by, and the first years were gradually settling down and getting used to the university.

Clark was also getting used to the new surroundings. He had gotten to know some of his classmates better. His health prevented him from taking part in games, so he had enrolled in the college newspaper. It was his secret dream to become an author, and reporting seemed to be a good way to hone his writing skills, as well as be a part of the college life.

He also found himself working with the girl he had bumped into in the cafeteria the other day, Lois Lane.

Clark was extremely impressed by Lois. He had never had a very thrusting personality, nor did he enjoy getting into arguments with people. Lois, despite being quite tiny, had a forceful personality which he could not help admiring, and a willingness to take on anyone if she thought something wrong was being done.

One day, Clark was getting some writing material from the newsoffice when Lois walked into the room.

"Good morning, Lois." Clark said, trying to infuse the right amount of detachment, courtliness and "hey, pay attention to me!" into his voice.

"Morning Clark." Lois said, paying close attention to the article she had written and intended to submit to Perry White, the editor of the newspaper. "It's not much, but it's all the lab assistant would tell me." She muttered, referring to the article. She glanced up at Clark. "You done with your article?"

"I'll have it done today." Clark said. He tried to sit straighter in his chair to improve his posture and reduce the slumping of his shoulders. "I'm supposed to do an interview of a student in philosophy class who won the westwing scholarship for her paper on greek mythology."

"Sounds exciting." Lois said, a hint of mockery in her voice. "Try not to get carried away with the word limit, like you did with the piece about the need for more trees on campus. I'll see you later."

Clark sank deeper into his chair with a sigh. He had to admit there was a part of him that Lois made uncomfortable. Her tone of conversation was usually different levels of sarcastic, and their was a lot of cynicism in her nature which reminded him of Bruce. But while Bruce was almost inhumanly logical in his thought processes, there was simply a stubbornness in Lois which was sometimes exasperating.

Clark broke through his musings on the way to lunch. As he made his way to the food counter, he scanned the room for Bruce, but he wasn't there. He was about to get a plate when a noise at the end of the room caught his attention.

He saw three students at the table where Jonh Jones had been eating his food, alone as usual. The leader of the three boys, a completly bald guy with an ugly sneer on his face, had apparently knocked John's food to the floor.

"That's our table, moron." The bald guy said. The boys on either side of him were huge, standing arms crossed, in identical menacing positions.

John said nothing. He got up quietly and retrieved his plate, not looking at any of them.

The bald student seemed aggravated with his lack of response.

"What, you left your tongue back in Africa? he said, grabbing John's collar. "You think you can just take our place and then walk away. Why did you even come here, you monkey faced bast-"

"Leave him alone." The bald guy swung around to see Clark striding towards him, his eyes angry, his bulky jacket swirling and flowing around his shoulders from the blasts of air coming from the fans.

Clark's ears were ringing. He hated bullying in any form, and listening to the bald student had made him feel sick.

He stopped in front of the bald guy. The entire cafeteria had gone quiet, watching the confrontation with interest. The bald student let go of John's collar and slowly turned to the skinny, bespectacled student standing in front of him.

"You got a problem with me?" he asked in a dangerous voice. His two freinds moved closer to Clark, sensing a fight.

"I've got a problem with what you're doing." Clark said coldly, too angry to be scared. "Stop messing with him and get lost."

The room went deadly quiet as the bald student stepped up close to Clark, his face inches away. "You're gonna wish you'd had kept your nose out of my business."

"You'll wish you'd kept away from John after the principal hears about you three." Clark said, staring at the student on the left. He flinched as though he had been burnt. Clark knew he was the principal's son, Kalibak.

"Man, after we're done with you, you won't have a jaw left to speak with..."

"So he'll sound like you?"

The bald student swung around to the direction of the voice. Bruce Wayne stood directly behind them, his hands in his pockets. He had arrived so silently that even Clark had not seen him.

The bald guy stared at the new arrival with hostile eyes. "You wanna get it too?"

"More like give it." Bruce said with a shrug. "But only if you're dumb enough to make me."

The bald guy stared at him for a moment, then looked at one of his companion. He sprang towards Bruce, arms outstretched.

In a movement almost too fast to be seen, Bruce ducked. One of the outstrechted hands was seized in an iron grip, and bent almost backwards. The student howled in pain. Bruce grabbed him by the collar and threw him into the table John had been sitting in.

Bruce turned back to the bald student as his freind tried to extricate himself. "You were saying?"

The bald student stared at his fallen friend, then Bruce, while his other friend tried to fade into the background. "You'll regret that." He growled. "You know who I am?"

"I can guess." Bruce said, coming to stand beside Clark. "Look like a cross between a reptile and an eggshell. The personality of a hyaena. No hair to speak of." Bruce cocked his head to one side. "Lex Luthor, right?"

"And I know who you are." Lex Luthor hissed. "How's mommy and daddy, Bruce?"

The casual expression on Bruce's face disappeared and he took a step towards Luthor.

"What's going on hear?"

One of the teachers had come to investigate the source of the noise. Lex relaxed instantly.

"Nothing , sir." He said unctously. "I was just talking to some friends." He glared malevolently at Bruce and Clark. "So I'll see you guys around..."

They said nothing as he left with his friends, one still rubbing his wrist. The teacher left as well. Clark turned to Bruce.

"Well, that could have turned unpleasant." He said.

"I wish it had." Bruce said, glowering at Lex's back. Clark turned to John. "You okay?"

"Yes." He said in an extremely deep voice. "Thank you for your assistance."

"No problem." Bruce said, finally relaxing. "Not a very well thought out move, Clark. Although, in a stupid way, I guess it was pretty brave."

Clark grinned. "Was that almost a compliment?" he asked. "You seem to be going soft-"

"That was amazing"

Clark turned to see Lois hurrying towards them, a big smile on her face.

"Oh no." Clark said modestly, raising a self deprecating hand. "It was nothing. Bruce was really the one who-"

"That was amazing." Lois repeated, going past Clark to stand in front of Bruce. "That was so cool how you threw that guy into the table. I've been dying to see someone stand up to Luthor like that."

"Um, thanks." Bruce said, a little taken aback.

"I'm Lois." Lois said, extending her hand. Bruce shook it politely.

"Bruce." He said. "You're General Lane's daughter, right?"

"That's right." Lois beamed. "I've learnt some judo too, but what you did was on a whole different level. I have to get to a report now. I'll see you around, Bruce."

She left, with a careless "See you Clark."

Clark sighed as he turned to Bruce. "That's the girl you like?" Bruce asked. "Might not be easy to get her attention."

"Try impossible." Clark said glumly. "We were both standing here, Bruce. She didn't see me, she saw the superhero."

"Superhero?" Bruce said with a shudder. "No thanks. I'm allergic to spandex."

"Bully for you." Clark said. "There's an interview I'm supposed to be taking right now. I'll see you guys around."

He left them both at the table. The excitement over, the students were returning to their food. Clark searched for the last row, scanning the tables. He saw a girl sitting at an end table alone.

"Excuse me." Clark said politely. "I'm supposed to meet a Miss Diana Prince here."

"That's me." The girl turned to face him, and Clark found himself gazing at the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

* * *

_**Please tell me someone got the reference to the cape and heat vision. I've been feeling pretty pleased about that.**_

_**I admit i've never thought of Luthor as one of the great villains. He always simply seemed like a bully with too much money. So that's how i've written him.**_


	3. Tete eTete

TETE- E -TETE

Clark tried hard to stop himself from staring as the girl rose to greet him. He was gazing into warm gray eyes set in a face that could have put Helen of Troy to shame. Thick, raven black hair cascaded down her back luxuriously. A slim hand of pink and white smoothness was offered in greeting.

"My name is Diana." She said with a smile. "You must be Mr. Kent."

"Clark." He croaked, trying not to notice what the smile was doing to her blood red lips.

He sat down opposite her and fumbled in his bag for pen and paper. Diana was watching him curiously. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "_There's no way a girl that looks like her will ever go for a guy like you_." He told himself sternly. "_Stop fantasising and get a grip. Start acting weird and you'll blow the interview too_."

Feeling calmer, he turned back to Diana. "Thanks for giving this interview, Miss Prince. I hope I'm not keeping you from anything."

"Not at all. And call me Diana." She said, settling back in her chair. "Although I must admit, I'm not sure what your wanted to interview me about."

"Just some questions about the scholarship you won." Clark assured her, rifling through his papers. "So, you wrote a paper on the legends of the Amazonian culture mentioned in Greek legends, and their basis in fact, right?"

"That's right, I've always been fascinated by mythology, and the need to understand the concept behind their becoming legends."

"So you believe most of the stories written in mythology are historical facts?" Clark asked, a trace of scepticism in his voice.

"Yes, I do." Diana said firmly. "Although not in the literal sense you might believe. Legends were created around events that men could not comprehend. For instance, using horses as a means of transport was a revolutionary idea at one point in history. If a man was to be seen riding a horse, people believed he was actually joined to the horse from the waist. And so the legend of the centaur began. Also the case with Helen of Troy. The face that launched a thousand ships is an expression that has come to be associated with great beauty, but in fact, the storming of Troy was really a military manoeuvre made by the King Agamemnon to further his empire, and had little to do with Helen. There is an actual disease in existence known as porphyria, which makes the patient avoid sunlight and garlic and results in sharpening of the canine teeth and anaemia, which gives the patient a pale and unhealthy appearance. Hence the myths about vampires. Merpeople, the lost city of Atlantis, mount Olympus, the sword Excalibur, the trident of Poseidon, the tree of life, the philosophers stone, werewolves and shamans. Once you take away the romantic notions of magic and sorcery, you're left with bare facts about very interesting events in history."

Clark found himself leaning in slightly, drinking in her every word. "So what about the amazons?"

Diana considered for a moment, thinking out the answer. "The legends surrounding them are very obscure." She said. "A lot of them also seem to be grossly exaggerated. My own researchs indicate that a group of travellers might have come across women who were hunting on their own for their tribe. The men were greatly impressed by their prowess, especially in those days, when women were expected to be submissive and docile. The travellers carried the stories with them wherever they went, and again, through word of mouth publicity and garbled versions of the original tales, the legend of a fierce race of warrior women who existed outside the patriarchal sphere of influence was born."

Clark listened to Diana admiringly. It was clear from the way her face lit up, and the enthusiasm in her voice, that history was a subject she was passionate about.

"You sure seem to have done your research." Clark said with a smile, his initial nervousness gone. "So you're saying all those tales of valour and bravery was in fact much more ordinary?"

"Bravery is never ordinary, Clark." Diana said quietly. "It is what raises us above the other beings, the desire to protect someone other than ourselves. It is an emotion you must be familiar with. I saw how you stood up to those bullies just now, to help the other student." She smiled warmly. "That was very commendable."

"I'm glad someone thinks so." Clark said dryly. "Although my friend Bruce was the one who really took the matter in hand."

"That was very admirable as well." Diana nodded. "But he seemed to have some experience in combat. It is not quite the same as taking on three men who would hurt you very badly and still not be afraid."

"I wouldn't say I was unafraid." Clark said softly. "But the alternative was seeing a defenceless person pay the price for someone else's ugly temper. There's nothing I hate seeing more than people picking on someone weaker than them. It's the most cowardly and underhanded way to deal with people. Power isn't something that should be handled lightly or treated casually. "

Clark was surprised by his own eloquence. He did not usually discuss these views with other people, especially people he had only known for ten minutes. Diana, however, smiled understandingly.

"Exactly my point." She said. "There is no bravery about going into a fight knowing you will win, or fighting with someone who you know is weaker. It is, unfortunately, how most people prefer to confront a situation. Not to fight your equal, but to bully your inferior."

Clark nodded in complete agreement. He was tempted to continue the conversation along these lines, but it was not what the interview was supposed to ask her about.

"So, these mythologies." He said, steering the conversation back on track. "If they are really just glamorised versions of history, why do they all deal with the middle ages? What about our times?"

"There are quite a lot of legends of our times." Diana said with a shrug. "The difference is they are not so well known. The Loch Ness monster is, perhaps, the most famous example. It is almost the modern day equivalent of the nine headed serpent called Hydra that Hercules was supposed to have fought. Big foot is another example. In London, during Victorian times, Jack the ripper had a lesser well known brother called spring heeled Jack, who was said to be able to breathe fire, leap to great heights, and had clawed hands that were extremely lethal. Even the sightings of U.F.O.s and aliens might conceivably be an extension of fairy folks and ghost sightings, since humans have grown out of the belief in magic, and have started placing their faith in science..."

"So why the continued persistence of these legends?" Clark prodded. "Why this incessant need to make events greater and more terrible than they really are?"

Diana hesitated, feeling a strange urge to tell him of the dreams she'd been having, and how terrible they made the future look but decided it would seem silly to get worked up over dreams.

She shook her head slowly. "I can't honestly say Clark." She said. "It might simply be the result of the human ego. The need to believe we are more important than we really are. The need to believe we are a part of a greater, even divine force, which separates us from everything else in creation, instead of just a small part of the Earth's ecosystem. Or maybe-"

"Or maybe these legends are a way to hold on to our past." Clark said quietly. Diana nodded in agreement, her gaze thoughtful. "Maybe its how we remember the great things we can achieve in our lives, and how terrible the power would be if misused. Maybe, after all is said and done, we just need to understand our true natures through the legends of our ancestors."

Diana smiled. "Unfortunately Clark, these questions can't really be answered, since they hold a different meaning for everyone."

Clark grinned in response. "Then I guess we're not really looking for an answer. Maybe we just like to get lost in these tales of honour and glory sometimes."

Diana laughed. "If we did, I think I would make a pretty good Amazon."

"I've always preferred alien invasions myself." Clark smiled. "Okay, so I just need the particulars of the scholarship and award ceremony now..."

The interview lasted for a few minutes longer, until it was time for both their classes.

"Thanks again for the interview, Diana." Clark said as they both rose from the table.

"It was a pleasure, Clark." Diana said, shaking his hand. "There is not a lot of room for philosophical debates in colleges."

"I know, especially since it seems guys just want to spend their time fighting over you." Clark said, trying to hide his smile.

Diana blushed. "That was not my fault." She said indignantly. "I had never even talked to them. I can't help it if the idiots try to kill each other. When Kalibak asked me out, I didn't know he had hurt those other students."

"Of course it wasn't your fault." Clark said bracingly. "And I heard Steve Trevor and Tom Tresser made a full recovery. I also heard Kalibak was given a pretty rough time by his father for what he did. He's pretty strict about control."

"I'm just glad all that nonsense is over." Diana said, shaking her head. "It was so embarrassing."

"It's college." Clark said, shrugging. "I'll see you around, Diana."

"I hope I see you around too, Clark." They both smiled at each other and parted, heading back to their separate lives.

* * *

_**Sorry about the lack of action. Just needed to establish a few points.**_

_**Does this chapter meet with your approval, TorquoiseHeroine?**_

_**Despite what the JL cartoon would have us believe, Diana isn't just some violent nut who spends her free time hitting on Batman. In the comics she's blessed with the goddess Athena's wisdom and is two thousand years old, making her among the most mature members of the league. The warrior is just a small part of her personality(she's frequently referred to as the spirit of peace and truth). And the Diana of the comics is the only one I follow.**_


	4. A League Of Their Own

_**All names and characters are owned by DC comics**_

_**I own nothing of these characters or the billions they're worth, nor am I gettting any monetary profit for writing this story. It's a pretty depressing thought... **_

* * *

A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN

"So what do you call yourselves, the gotham triad?" Clark asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

Bruce frowned. It was a few months since Clark had taken Diana's interview. They were walking down the hall on the way to lunch.

"We don't call ourselves anything." Bruce said irritably. "We just had a system where we'd get a network of students in all the schools in Gotham to work together, so we'd know about any of the fights or gangwars which were going to happen, and then we'd send the police there before it got out of hand."

Clark had been telling Bruce how hard it was to get information beforehand about any illegal activities in college for the newspaper. They could only report on it after it occured. So Bruce had told Clark about the system he had worked out in Gotham with his frie- ahem...acquiantances to monitor such activities.

"Who started this system?" Clark asked. Despite his joking, he was impressed by the scheme Bruce had described to him.

"Me, and there was Jim Gordon, he was the commisioners son, he knew all the kids at the top of the chain, and there was Harvey Bullock, not so high up, but he knew practically every member of every gang personally." Bruce recalled. "They're still working on it in Gotham, and they fill me in from time to time on new developments."

"You mean like on FRIENDS, where they sit together in a cosy coffee place and chat about old times?" Clark asked innocently.

"No way" Bruce said, exasperated. "We just compare notes over the phone."

Clark shook his head, his smile slipping. It saddened him how insecure Bruce was about his personal life. He hoped it would not mean his friend would one day draw away completely from everyone he cared about. Clark was not sure what would happen to Bruce if he was swallowed completely in the darkness and cynicism he exhibited sometimes.

"You know, she's from Gotham too." Clark said quietly, more to change the subject than anything. He motioned towards a dark haired girl who was walking alone in front of them.

"Selina Kyle. Born in gotham. Parentage unknown. Raised in an orphanage. Kicked out at the age of sixteen for delinquent behaviour. Sent to juvenile prison for grand theft auto. Got through school by sleeping with every one of her teachers. Sent here on an athletic scholarship." Bruce reeled off.

"Now how do you know so much about her without ever having talked to her?" Clark demanded.

"Hacked the school computer." Bruce said with shrug.

Selina turned in their direction. They saw a pair of huge green eyes in a heart shaped face framed by long curly hair contasting against pale olive skin. She caught Bruce staring at her and he blushed, not used to being caught off guard. She said nothing, but gave them both an appraising glance and walked away.

"Smooth." Clark murmured.

"You brought her up." Bruce muttered, still blushing deeply. They collected their food from the counter and searched for an empty table. They found one in a corner of the room and sat down.

"You know, the food doesn't taste quite so bad now." Clark said conversationally.

"Speak for yourself." Bruce said, prodding a charred piece of meat on his plate which looked like the remains of a human toe.

Clark looked up to see a girl leaving the counter with her food.

"Diana." He called out, gesturing to their table. "Over here."

Diana came to their table with her food, returning Clark's smile. Since the interview, the two had met a few times and had since become friends.

"Hello Clark." She said, taking a seat opposite him. "It is very crowded here today, isn't it?"

"It's prime time rush hour right now." Clark said. "This is my friend Bruce Wayne."he added, gesturing towards Bruce. "And this is Diana Prince. She's majoring in philosophy and medicine. She's won this year's Westwing scholarship."

"Hello" Diana said, looking at the handsome boy with interest. She had heard about the son of the famous billionaire and had been surprised to find he should be freinds with Clark.

"Hi" Bruce said in reply, a little cautiously. He had also heard about Diana, and already knew everything Clark had just told him. As a rule, he stayed away from pretty girls. He'd had a lot of trouble with old girfriends, specially Talia and Ivy and Vicki. The prettier they were the more trouble they seemed to be. And calling Diana pretty would be like calling Michael Jordan a decent player. But since she was Clark's friend, he assumed she was all right.

They fell to discussing the fight that had taken place with Luthor. "What you both did was very brave." Diana complimented them. "Otherwise that incident could have turned very unpleasant."

"We had an ace up our sleeve." Bruce said. He looked at Clark. "I saw the trophies at your house. Gold medal, right? Aldershot."

"You box, Clark?" Diana asked, turning to Clark in amazement. "I didn't know that. I would never have guessed it."

"I _used_ to box." Clark replied with a shrug. "Before...you know, the illness." Diana nodded in sympathy. She knew about the disease that had very nearly killed him a year ago. "It was an interesting few rounds." Clark said, a smile forming on his lips, as he remembered the time when he had been so much stronger. "We had some pretty good boxers from different schools. There was Thor and Herk Lee and Capen Morell. They were pretty tough but I managed to beat them. Then we had the finals. It was between me and this guy from another state. His name was Bruce too, but everyone called him the hulk and-"

He stopped suddenly, looking at Diana apologetically. "Don't get the wrong idea." He said. "I don't mean to sound as if I like to just pound on every guy I meet, but when your'e in the ring, it's as much about the science of boxing and quick footwork as it is about slugging it out. As long the rules are obeyed, it's a really interesting sport."

"I'll have to take your word for it." Daina smiled, still having a hard time imaging the low-key and courteous boy she had come to know punching and weaving in the ring.

John Jones was making his way to their table. Since the fight, he had come to know the two boys on a more familiar basis.

"Hello Clark." He said in his deep voice. "May I join your table?"

"Of course, John,have a seat." Clark said with a welcoming smile.

"Good afternoon, Bruce." John said. Bruce nodded in reply. John was introduced to Daina and he shook her hand politely.

"Is this a clique or can anyone join in?" They turned to see Wally West coming towards them with Arthur Curry in tow.

"Hey, Wally." Clark said, slapping his hand. The two had become friends after Clark had interviewed him a few weeks ago. Wally and Arthur also sat at the table, and the coversation became general, about the teachers and the condition of the hostels.

Bruce sat back in his seat, not taking part in the conversation too much but observing everyone else at the table. He wasn't sure how, but somehow he had become part of a large social circle. Despite his loner habits he had made more freinds in just a few months of college than he had in his entire life. It was extremely puzzling. If his butler Alfred was to see him right now, he would refuse to believe it really was Bruce Wayne sitting there, dicussing with Wally the best diet for a distance runner.

With a start he realised the truth. It was because of Clark. He glanced across the table at his bespectacled freind, who was laughing at a joke Arthur was telling. There was something about him, his personality, that despite his unimpressive exterior made people seek him out. It wasn't a leadership quality exactly. He would never dream of telling others what to do. But he had a way of getting everyone, even Bruce, to get along with him and with each other. That was why six students who barely knew each other were sitting together at the same table, talking together like old friends. But Bruce wondered how long the feeling of comradeship would last. They were all such different people, from such different backgrounds. He himself was not exactly sparkling company if you were trying to have fun. John was still mostly withdrawn, still haunted by the terrible memories of his home country. Arthur was staring admiringly at Diana, and was clearly waiting for a chance to exercise his charm on her. Wally was talking rapidly about his training, but his eyes kept straying towards a girl at a distant table. It was all very mixed up, but for now, Bruce was content to let things play out as they would.

Just then, Bruce saw Lois Lane enter the cafeteria. He gave Clark a nudge.

Clark was deep in a conversation with Diana about the holy grail. He looked up at Bruce, then what he was pointing at. He sighed and shrugged moodily.

Diana also turned to see what they were looking at. "Do you know her?"she asked, gesturing towards Lois. Clark waited for Bruce to make some crack about Lois, but he sat impassive in his seat.

"She's a fellow reporter." Clark explained. "And a friend of mine."

"Then we should ask her to join our table." Diana suggested. She was aware that she was the only girl at the table, and her mother would have a heart attack if she saw her surrounded by boys, after all her warnings. But Diana was not a very social type, and had few freinds at the college, so that she missed all her friends at her old boarding school.

"Lois" Bruce called out before Clark could stop him. Lois saw him and smiled, making her way towards their table.

"Hi Bruce." She said with a beaming smile. "Hey Clark." She added as an afterthought, with a less beaming smile, then focussed her attention back on Bruce. "Did you see the equipment they've put in the physics lab?"

"Yeah, it is pretty wierd." Bruce said. "Got any more interesting news about the things they put in your food in restraunts if you annoy them? I'll never look at fried food the same way after reading your article."

Lois laughed. "Thanks, that one took me along time."

Diana was confused. She had thought Lois was Clark's friend, yet after the first careless greeting, she had barely spared him a glance. Instead her whole focus was on Bruce.

"Anyway, this is Diana Prince." Bruce said to Lois. Lois nodded to Diana, a hint of coolnes in her expression as she looked at the beautiful girl sitting right next to Bruce. "Nice to meet you." She said politely.

"You too." Diana smiled in response, although she sensed Lois's less than friendly tone, and was puzzled by it.

"Well, I have to get to my friends now. I'll see you later Bruce. You too, Clark." She left the table to join Cat.

Bruce gazed at Clark, who had not said a single word during the entire conversation. "Smooth." He said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

"Oh shut up ." Clark muttered, returning to his food.

They left the cafeteria in different groups. Diana excused herself first, since she had a class. On her way to the classroom she mused on the new turn her life had taken. A year ago she had been living in a boarding house and attended an all girls school. The only men she met were old enough to be her father. This was the first time she was in a place with so many boys her own age. The things her mother had told her about men had made her feel apprehensive at first, but the boys she had come to know were not turning out like she had feared. Clark specially was very easy to talk to. He did not stare at her like the other boys, like Arthur Curry had been staring, but actually listened to what she was saying. Diana had read somewhere that girls liked to be friends with boys that they found non threatening. Yet that girl Lois seemed more friendly with Bruce. Bruce also seemed like a decent guy, but he gave the impression of a watchful panther, who could be dangerous when aroused. But Diana knew Clark's mild mannered appearance was quite deceptive. While Clark did not seem dangerous, he nevertheless had a quiet confidence in his manner, as though he knew he would not need to shout to be heard. As for the others, John was clearly still tortured by memories of what had happened to his home in Africa, and Diana felt a wave of sympathy for him, wishing she could do something to help ease his pain.

She was making her way to her classroom when she heard someone behind her say "Diana, wait up." She turned to see Clark coming towards her.

"You left your locket at the table." He said, taking out a beautifully crafted pendant shaped like a golden eagle with it's wings folded behind it's back.

"Oh, thank you Clark." She said gratefully. "This was a farewell gift from my friends back at school. I would hate to lose it."

Clark nodded understandingly. Diana had told him a little about her school life, and how close she had been to her friends. Diana slipped the pendant around her neck, her long sleeves pulling back, exposing her slim wrist.

"Diana, what happened to your arm." Clark asked, alarmed. There was a puncture wound on her forearm, the area still red and inflamed.

"Oh, that's nothing" Daina said hastily, dropping her sleeve back.

"It looked infected, Diana." Clark said, concerned. "You should get it checked out."

"Really Clark, it's nothing." Diana insisted. "It's just a little scratch."

Clark hesitated. "Diana, even if it's something illegal, you should have it examined, maybe in a private hospital?" He suggested, as tactfully as he could.

"Illegal?" Diana asked, amused. "You think I do drugs?" she sighed, deciding to tell him. "Okay, fine. I donated blood yesterday. The doctor who took my blood was an amateur and he poked around in my arm more times than was necessary. So I got some swelling and inflammation, but it'll get better soon."

"Oh, wow" Clark said, embarrased. "Well, that's a great thing you did. I'm really sorry about the drug comment."

"That's okay, it was a logical thought." Diana said with a shrug.

"But I didn't know their was a blood donation camp going on in our college." Clark said, as they resumed walking.

"Their isn't." Diana said, blushing. "I donated it at the blood bank."

She had tried to avoid divulging this information, since her old friends used to make fun of her over the matter. They couldn't understand why she would go through the painful process when there was no reward for the donation.

"Diana, their's nothing to be ashamed about in donating blood." Clark said, smiling at her in warm admiration. "Your blood is going to save someone's life somewhere, and that's really cool. I'd offer to come with you the next time you go to the blood bank, but my parents would kill me if they found out I was going around giving away blood, in my present condition."

"Of course you shouldn't come Clark, this is just something I do sometimes because it makes sense to me. It doesn't mean everyone else should do it too." Diana said, grateful for his reaction. They stopped outside the door of her classroom.

"Well, I'll see you around, Diana." Clark said as he prepared to leave. "You're sure it's not too painful?"

"It's fine Clark, I'm not as fragile as you seem to think." Diana said with a laugh. "I can handle a little pain."

"Okay then, I'll see you around. Take care Diana."

"You too Clark."

Clark made his way alone to his own class, marvelling at Diana. He saw by his watch that he still had fifteen minutes to go before his class began, so he went to a coffee stall and brought an espresso. He went to sit at an empty table, enjoying the cool breeze blowing gently through the grounds.

He had barely sat their for two minutes when he was joined by three students. Looking up, he saw Lex Luthor take the seat opposite him, while Kalibak and Lobo stood as usual at attention behind him.

Lex grinned at him, the smile of a hungry shark. "Hi there, Kent." He said in a friendly voice, as though they were old friends.

Clark said nothing. Since the fight in the cafeteria, Luthor had not approached him or Bruce or John, but he had seen Lex observing him from afar. He wondered where the sudden friendliness had sprung from.

He waited for Lex to continue. Lex was looking at him appraisingly.

Finally, he gave Clark another grin. "I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day." He said. "It was just a stupid little fight, but it would've turned really ugly if the teacher hadn't turned up, right?"

"You started the fight." Clark said, keeping his voice nuetral.

Annoyance flashed through Luthor's eyes. "Oh, come on. It was just about that stupid foreign guy, John whatever. It's not even his real name. It was a private argument. You should've kept-" he stopped, taking a deep breath, trying to control his temper. He gave another grin, with more of an effort this time. "Anyway, we should forget it now. It's in the past. I think we could be good friends if we tried, Clark."

Clark said nothing, continuing to study him, and Luthor felt his irritation growing as he waited for an answer. He had occasional problems with anger, but he was an expert at finding the scenario most likely to benefit him. He had assumed at first that Kent was just a nerd with a hero complex, but after watching him for a few days, he had been forced to change that opinion. For some reason, the guy was good at making connections. He'd already made friends with Wayne, the richest kid in college, and Curry, who's father owned all the naval shops in metropolis, and that guy West, who everyone said was gonna win the gold medal in the Olympics someday, and was a popular guy. Not to mention that Prince girl, who had all the guys in the college running after her. Luthor felt it would be better to be friends with this guy. It was the same reason he had befriended Kalibak; because he was the principal's son. And Lobo was very useful too. One of the prerequisites to taking over a place is making the right connections from the start.

"So you think we should be friends." Clark said finally, absent mindedly rubbing a spot on the table.

Luthor winked at him. "We could rule this college man. We could do anything we want. Even the seniors would'nt get in our way. We'd be untouchable. All that It needs is getting our resources together and forming our own league. So what do you say?" he extended his hand. "Friends?"

Clark took a sip of his coffee, ignoring Luthors hand. "You know, you keep saying friends, but I can't see you thinking of any one as enough of your equal to call your friend." He said placidly. "Why don't you just say your followers? It cuts through all the completely unneccesary crap and gets us to the main point."

Luthors gaze darkened, his eyes dangerous. "Hey farmboy, you should think about what comes out of your mouth sometimes. I came to offer you friendship, but trust me, I can be your worst enemy too."

"I'd prefer having you as my enemy." Clark remarked pleasantly. "I'm allergic to friends who'd stab me in the back the moment they find it profitable."

Luthor stood up, his hands clenched, itching to punch the daylights out of the geek. But there were teachers present. "You're gonna wish you'd accepted my offer." He growled. "You might think you're safe with that psycho from Gotham, and Curry and that African, but I'm the one who'll be calling the shots in this place very soon."

"Good luck with that." Clark said. "I was personally never very crazy about leadership," he added with a shrug "But I'm sure you'll succeed in your grand endeavours, with such loyal and enterprising freinds, who's actions so deeply reflect their inner brilliance." He finished, nodding towards Kalibak, who, finding the conversation going above his head, had been absent mindedly picking his nose.

Luthor stormed away from the table, his friends following him, Kalibak trying to figure out in his head whether he had been insulted or not.

Clark once again sat alone at the table, musing. He was not usually so snide. Either Bruce or Lois was rubbing off on him. Or maybe both.

* * *

_**Gonna have my first term exams in a few days, so won't be able to update for a while.**_

_**And before someone else points it out, no, Kalibak and Lobo don't remind me of Crabbe and Goyle. **_

_**Okay, there seems to be some confusion over this. John Jones is the alias that J'onn J'onzz the martian manhunter often used while pretending to be human. in the comics, J'onn**_

_**lost his entire family on Mars and was accidently teleported to Earth, where he is the last of his race, except the white martians. so in my story, John Jones is the martian manhunter.**_


	5. Explosive Interests

_**This is a loooong chapter. Longer than the first four put together. Stupid muse wouldn't leave me alone till I'd finished it, at which point I was heartily sick of the whole damn thing. Anyway, on with the story...**_

_**None of the characters or names are owned by me. All characters and the billions they're worth are owned by DC comics, and unless the owners suddenly take it into their heads to make me their heir, the situation is unlikely to change. **_

_**I'm not getting paid any money for writing this story, nor am I getting any sort of monetary profit (this way, I get to practise for when I write my own original stories and try to sell them).**_

_**

* * *

**_

EXPLOSIVE INTERESTS

"Am I the only one having a school flashback?" Lois asked, staring around the huge hall.

"With braces and a few pimples, I could be." Cat muttered in response.

They were standing in the college auditorium. The chairs and tables had been removed from the hall to leave a large area in the centre, where the most curious objects and devices were spread out without rhyme or reason.

"Cat, I got your coffee for you." A high pitched, slightly nasal voice called out to them. They turned to see a skinny little student with round glasses making his way towards them, a cup of coffee cradled carefully in both his hands as though it was a new born baby.

"Thank you so much Mace." Cat said with a ravishing smile which most men would have described as charming, and most women would have described as slutty. She took a sip with a sigh of contentment, Mace watching her avidly. "You couldn't get me a roll too, could you? Only I forgot to bring my purse and..."

Mace nodded eagerly and shot off to the snack shop like a homing pigeon. Cat took another sip of her coffee and glanced at Lois, who was staring at her disapprovingly.

"You wanted a roll too?" she asked solicitously. "I'll get him to bring another one if you want when he gets back."

"You do you realise how wrong it is, using that poor guy like that?" Lois demanded. "You've let him hang around you for a couple of weeks now, so that he thinks you a couple now or something. But I know you would never date a guy like him."

"Oh come on, he knows it's nothing serious." Cat said dismissively. "Besides, you're one to talk, with the way you treat Clark."

"What's wrong with how I treat Clark?" Lois asked defensively. "I don't use him or anything like you do with Mace."

"Really? So you didn't ask him to do the report on the talent show so you could go after that guy you thought was selling black tickets to the students?" Cat demanded.

"Oh... well, that." Lois paused. Then she rallied quickly. "That was different. It was just one colleague helping out another. The black ticket story was more important, and Clark's too soft for that kind of reporting."

"Oh come on. You've done it before, dumping the boring work on him." Cat said. "Because you know he likes you. That's not using him?"

"I'd do the same for him." Lois said defensively. "I know he's probably gonna try to ask me out soon, and I'll tell him then that it's not gonna work."

"He doesn't exactly look lovesick right now." Cat commented, staring at the entrance. Lois turned in time to see Clark, Bruce and Diana enter the hall, talking animatedly.

"Looks like a couple in the making." Cat murmured, and Lois knew she was referring to Bruce and Diana.

She frowned, irritated. "They're just friends." She said dismissively. "Just because they hang out together doesn't make them a couple."

"Sure it doesn't." Cat said. "She's got every guy in college asking her out, and he's got girls throwing themselves in front of him. Why shouldn't they date?"

"Bruce is too deep to be hooked in by looks." Lois said firmly.

"Is that a fact or a fervent hope?" Cat asked slyly. Despite her irresponsible manner she could be quite shrewd at times.

Lois decided to change the topic. "Come on." She said, seizing Cat's arm and steering her towards the exhibits. "Let's take in all the intellectual stimulations this place has to offer."

Clark, Bruce and Diana strolled into the room, looking with interest at the various exhibits.

"I must admit, I did not think the science fair would be on such am impressive scale." Diana said, gazing at a gigantic, three dimensional replica of their solar system.

"They're really going overboard with this show." Bruce commented. "It must've cost them a fortune to rig up these exhibits."

"It'll be worth it if they get the new wing in the physics lab." Clark observed. "That's the whole point of this exhibition."

"The winner with the best science model gets a huge cash prize too." Diana reminded him.

"It'll probably be wasted on these guys," Clark said, shaking his head. "Their idea of a good investment is buying all the vintage Pokémon cards. Come on, I want to find a friend of mine. He must be here somewhere."

They walked around the hall taking in the sights till Clark spied out his friend. "John" he called out.

A tall African American student with glasses similar to Clark's turned towards them. He grinned broadly at Clark and came towards them carrying a clipboard.

"Good to see you Clark." He said, shaking his hand. "I thought you were coming here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, for the newspaper. I just thought of getting a preview today." Clark said with a grin. "These are my friends Bruce and Diana." He said, introducing them. "And this is John Henry Irons. He's in charge of this exhibition. He's an engineering student."

They shook hands. John and Bruce gave each other a look of mutual respect. They knew a little of each other's reputation in science student circles. John nodded warmly towards Diana, shooting her an admiring look.

"So, fancy giving us a tour?" Clark said, gesturing towards the exhibits.

"Sure" John said. "It's pretty slow right now. I'll show you guys some of the cooler projects. People have come up with some really neat stuff for this fair."

John led the three towards one end of the room, where a huge tank filled with water was vibrating gently through some unseen machinery. A cage with two mice was kept next to it.

For a few minutes they stood in front of the tank, John grinning at the three without saying a word.

"What?" Clark finally asked. "Why are we interested in an indoor swimming pool?"

"Who said it was a swimming pool?" John said, still grinning.

"Is it perhaps for demonstrating a prototype for some new type of naval craft?" Diana suggested.

"Nope, nothing to do with boats." John said. He glanced at Bruce, who was staring intently at the liquid. "Any thoughts Bruce?"

Bruce looked up at him. "It's not water." He said matter of factly. He spoke calmly, but his voice betrayed a hint of excitement. "Is this what I think it is?"

John nodded, still grinning mischievously. "A clear, oily liquid with the density of water." He said. "Name of Perflubron." Bruce looked impressed.

Clark and Diana stared at the two in confusion. "What are we missing here?" Clark demanded.

"Why don't I show you?" John said casually. He went to the cage and took out one of the mice. He cradled it gently in one hand. The next second, he had tossed it into the tank.

Clark and Diana yelled in surprise. They rushed towards the tank, but were stopped by the other two.

"John, that mouse is going to drown." Clark said angrily.

"No, it's not." John said, holding him back. "Just watch, both of you."

They stopped struggling. Bruce walked over to the tank's edge to watch more closely.

The mouse was trying to raise its head above the water. But it kept going down and then coming back up, struggling frantically. A few more surfaces, then it sank to the bottom, where they could still see it in the clear liquid. Diana tensed up, ready to go into the tank in the next few seconds to rescue it.

The mouse lay still at the bottom of the tank. It shuddered as the life was slowly sucked out of it.

Then something extraordinary happened. The mouse suddenly started to move again. It wind milled its feet rapidly, moving across the bottom. It was swimming strongly, and did not seem to need to breathe now.

"Fascinating" Bruce said, watching its progress.

Clark and Diana stared in amazement at the mouse. John wore the expression of a magician satisfied with his audience's reaction. He took out a holding net and trawled the tank till the mouse was scooped up in it. Then he grabbed the mouse and deposited it in its cage.

He grinned at Bruce. "Better than just reading about it, isn't it?" he said.

"Undoubtedly" Bruce said, standing up and walking back to Clark and Diana.

John looked at the other two, who were still staring in amazement at the mouse.

"Sorry about the unnecessary theatrics." He said apologetically. "But I rarely get to shock and awe like that. Even though Diana looked like she wanted to punch me at first."

"I was thinking about it." Diana confirmed. "Would you two please explain to us what we just saw?"

"With pleasure" John said, strolling back to the tank and stopping at its edge, then turning back to them. He closed his eyes and spoke, as though reciting a definition from a book.

"Perfluorochemical, that is, perfluorocarbon molecules have very different structures that impart different physical properties such as respiratory gas solubility, density, viscosity, vapour pressure and lipid solubility. The physical properties of PFC liquids vary substantially; however, the one common property is their high solubility for respiratory gases. These liquids carry more oxygen and carbon dioxide than blood."

John opened his eyes and looked at Clark and Diana. "Breathable liquid" He said, motioning towards the tank. "You can sit at the bottom of the tank for hours and not drown, depending on the level of oxygen concentration in the fluid."

"Although that's still in the future." Bruce interjected warningly. "It's only been tested on animals yet."

"Oh, come on. You know people have used it on humans too." John said to Bruce.

"Not government tested experiments." Bruce said firmly. "So they don't count."

"Where has it been used?" Diana asked, staring at the tank.

"Torture" John said bluntly. "It can cause severe mental trauma, being made to think you're being drowned. Some interrogation methods have made use of this fact."

"I saw the movie The Abyss." Clark said, crouching at a corner of the tank and dipping his finger in the liquid. "They used this kind of thing in it. You're telling me it was true?"

"This technology had been a fact since the 1950s." John said. "They've been refining it ever since."

"So why did they develop it?" Clark asked.

"The primary application of liquid breathing is the medical treatment of certain lung problems." John explained. "Because Perflubron carries more oxygen than air, it can help support the lungs until they are able to function with regular air. It's also been used for adults with acute respiratory failure. The liquid helps collapsed alveoli to open, washes out contaminants, and provides better exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide for lungs that are not fully functional."

"It's got some pretty interesting application in diving too." Bruce added. "Ordinarily, divers breathe heavily pressurized gases to prevent their lungs from collapsing deep underwater, but this requires decompression on the way up and carries the risk of nitrogen narcosis and other problems. If the lungs were filled with a liquid instead, most of those problems would simply disappear. This would, in theory, enable divers to dive deeper underwater and rise to the surface faster."

"This is very impressive." Diana said. "Did the students prepare the fluid themselves for the show?"

"That's what they said, but I think it would be too difficult to make it at home." John said, shrugging. "Who cares, as long as it's in the exhibition. Come on, I'll show you guys some other stuff."

They left the ordinary looking tank and went towards the rest of the projects.

"Working model of a volcano" John said, gesturing towards a conical mound constructed of soil. It rose to a height of at least eight feet. "Pretty old idea, I know. But this time we're doing it on a big scale. The guys who made it rigged a motor and pump inside its mouth. They're using a special mix to make the eruption slag. Nothing dangerous, but it's gonna look really cool when they do it tomorrow."

"And this is a precisely scaled replica of our solar system." He said, bringing them up to the solar model. It looked beautiful, with the stars twinkling in pinpoints and the sun glowing brightly at the centre of the roving planets.

"The girls who made this paid a lot of attention to details, even though it's hard to see from this far away." John explained, bringing them as close as possible to the model. "You can see the rings on Saturn. And Jupiter, Uranus, Neptune and Saturn are made of a semi gelatinous compound, since the actual planets are a mass of compressed gases in case of Jupiter and Saturn, and water and ice in case of Uranus and Neptune. Also, if you watch closely you'll see the planets shifting further away periodically."

"Why did they show that?" Diana queried.

"To support the Big Bang theory, which holds that every object in the universe is drawing away from everything else." Clark volunteered. The others looked at him quizzically.

"I forgot you were an amateur astronomer." Bruce said. "He's got a telescope on top of the barn at his farm." He told Diana. "Although I thought he just used it to spy on Lana Lang."

"Who is Lana Lang?" Diana asked with interest.

"Anyway, there are a lot of theories about the creation of the universe." Clark said hurriedly, shooting Bruce a look. "But the big bang theory bears out most of the observations of deep space so far. The basic idea is that at the beginning the universe was a single point of massive energy, which later exploded into its present state. That explosion is still taking place, and the universe is growing bigger every day.

"The theory first evolved when Edwin Hubble built the telescope that was later named after him and showed that the distance between stars and entire galaxies was growing." John said. "His findings made him propose the theory of the big bang."

"The actual theory was proposed by Georges Lemaitre." Clark corrected him. "Hubble did the tests to prove the theory."

"And the Big Rip theory and dark matter concepts gives us about twenty billion years before the universe stretches beyond its capacity and is destroyed." Bruce finished. "Although it's highly unlikely Earth will still be around at that point."

"But the big bang is not a part of this exhibit." John said, leading them away from the model. "We've also got a lot of static models and projects. They're pretty interesting if you're interested in the subject. This is another model which is pretty cool."

John took them to an area where two models were kept, of a large steam engine and a golden plate with silver cross sections across it.

"Here we've got two ways of producing electricity." He said. "First the usual method- burning fuel to produce steam, which is used to rotate the turbine in the presence of a magnetic field that in turn produces electricity in accordance with the laws of electromagnetism, but which unfortunately also causes large scale pollution." He motioned towards the bigger machine, which was belching out thick clouds of fumes, which were being funnelled through a chimney out of the hall.

"And the newer method, using solar power" He motioned towards the solar panel. "Based on the concept of semi conductor diodes. It's a very simple principle. Sunlight gives us photons of light energy which fall on the panel surface. They create a potential difference which cause electrons to flow in the panel, producing a current. But we couldn't get all the materials since the silver and silicon used in these cost too much. So this one won't work as well as the real ones. But it gets the point across."

"John, I fixed the steamer." A voice called out from behind the steam engine.

A chubby little student appeared from around the engine model. He walked through the thick smoke, seeming not at all bothered by the clouds of fumes the machine was belching out.

"This is W.S., also known as The Whiz, on account of his being a genius in the field of applied sciences, specialising in robotics and astrophysics." John introduced them as the student walked towards them. He was hardly five feet tall; huge glasses making his eyes large and protuberant like an owl's as he blinked at them.

"And these are my friends Clark, Bruce and Diana." John finished the introduction. The whiz nodded at them absentmindedly before turning back to John.

"Someone broke the armature on the motor, so I had to attach the copper wire to the commutator around it from the Cottrell windings." He said, jabbing a thumb at the machine. "It'll still work, but the electric precipitator won't function all that great, so there'll be a lot more smoke."

"Thanks for the help, whiz." John said. "My friends came to see the exhibits; you want to show them your project?"

The whiz looked at the other three with real interest for the first time. "Glad to" he said, ushering them over to another corner of the room. There were a lot of highly detailed charts and neatly labelled diagrams, but no model present. "Okay, so my model isn't ready yet, I'll just give you the general idea." He took his place next to his drawings while the other four gathered in front of him.

The whiz pointed towards a chart. "Approximately thirteen point seven billion years ago. The big bang" he said.

The chart showed an explosion of fiery energy, a black void illuminated by a chaotic swirl of electrons and protons, quarks and mesons; the first semblance of matter in the universe. The picture was titled BARYOGENESIS.

"Then came the universe as we know it" The Whiz said. He now pointed towards a picture of the present universe, with the stars, planets, asteroids and black holes. "That picture of our universe poses one of the biggest mysteries in physics, specifically particle physics." He said. "The presence of _only matter" _

"That is a mystery?" Diana asked, confused.

The Whiz nodded. "You all know about the nature of electrons and protons that we learnt about in school, right? In 1928, Paul Dirac put forward an equation that won him the Nobel Prize. The equation was for explaining the behaviour of an electron. However, that equation has two solutions, one for a negatively charged electron, and one for a _positively_ charged electron. But as we've all learnt, an electron is always, _always _negatively charged. That is a universal fact."

He looked at them impressively, as though expecting them to faint from astonishment. They, however, seemed unimpressed.

"So anyway" The Whiz said quickly. "Dirac concluded from the equation that for every particle in nature, there is an _antiparticle,_ exactly identical to it, but with an opposite charge. In other words, Dirac proposed the existence of _antimatter." _He paused dramatically.

"Whiz, enough with the histrionics" John said impatiently. "We're not watching a soap here."

"Oh, all right" The Whiz said with a sigh. "The term antimatter was first coined by Arthur Schuster in 1898. According to the most basic rules of symmetricity, there should be as much antimatter in the universe as matter, yet scientists were unable to detect its presence anywhere."

"So the existence of antimatter hasn't been proven yet?" Clark asked.

"It has now" The Whiz said. "The discovery of the first antiproton was done in 1955 by Segrè and Chamberlain. In 1995 CERN, which is like the Mecca of science in modern times, announced that it had brought into existence nine antihydrogen atoms by using the SLAC/Fermi lab concept during the PS210 experiment. The experiment was performed using a Low Energy Antiproton Ring (LEAR). Then Fermi lab confirmed the CERN findings by producing approximately 100 antihydrogen atoms at their facilities. Positrons were reported in November 2008 to have been generated by Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in larger numbers than by any previous synthetic process."

"So antimatter must be a pretty rare substance" Clark commented.

"Try the rarest substance in the entire universe." Whiz said. "A few molecules is all scientists have been able to detect. And trust me, they've tried. Scientists claim antimatter is the costliest material to make. In 2006, Gerald Smith estimated 25 billion dollars would buy about one gram of antimatter; and in 1999 NASA gave a figure of $62.5 trillion per gram of antihydrogen. According to CERN, it has cost a few hundred million Swiss Francs to produce about 1 billionth of a gram. They're trying everything from large hadron colliders to using magnetic scoops to collect the antimatter that occurs naturally in the Van Allen belt of the Earth and the belts of gas giants like Jupiter."

"But I don't understand, why go to such lengths simply to get a few samples of this substance?" Diana asked, perplexed.

"Because The Whiz left out a few crucial details during his ode to antimatter" John said dryly.

"No, I didn't, I was getting to that." Whiz shot back. He turned again to the other three. "Antimatter-matter reactions have practical applications in medical imaging, such as positron emission tomography. In positive beta decay, a nuclide loses surplus positive charge by emitting a positron. Nuclides with surplus positive charge are easily made in a cyclotron and are used in medicine."

"Although it's the incendiary power of the substance that interests companies" John interjected.

"That's actually true." Whiz said, shrugging. "They look out for their interests, just like everyone else. So that, in short, is my project."

The Whiz spread his arms out to his corner. "I will create antimatter." He proclaimed.

"Here? Bruce said, speaking for the first time. He sounded alarmed. "That's insane."

"Why?" The Whiz said, his voice suddenly hostile.

"Because antimatter is a highly unstable substance" Bruce said, now sounding angry. "Have you forgotten what actually created antimatter in the first place? Baryogenesis was the point at which the entire universe could have fitted into a living room. Matter and energy were in an exchangeable state because the universe was in an extremely dense and hot state of billions upon billions upon billions of degrees. That's what it took to create antimatter."

"I can duplicate the process." Whiz said firmly. "That's what they're doing with the particle accelerators at CERN. I've thought of a way of refining the process. Inert gases are the key."

"And what happens if something goes wrong?" Bruce demanded.

"I remember reading somewhere that antimatter has a lot of explosive power." Clark said meditatively.

"You're right Clark; the explosive power of antimatter is on a whole new level." John said. "It's conceivably the most powerful incendiary device ever created. A teaspoonful of antimatter would have the explosive equivalency of one hundred hydrogen bombs, which are more potent than the atom bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki during world war two. One of the most massive stars in existence, about two hundred and fifty times the size of our sun is expected to be destroyed due to creation of antimatter on its surface."

"Add to that the fact that the implosion is triggered immediately on contact of antimatter with matter of any kind, even air, not to mention it's virtually impossible to store antimatter except in very special vacuum cells with oppositely magnetised arcs at the ends, and maybe you'll see why I'm concerned." Bruce said, fixing a hard gaze at The Whiz.

"Science has always carried risks." Whiz said dismissively. "But the good thing is that it also depends on solid calculations, which can be checked. So I know what I'm doing. And as for containment, I'll be using fullerenes."

"And it's not a big deal that you might blow up the college and all of metropolis in the process?" Clark asked.

The Whiz sighed wearily. "It's pointless arguing with non believers. John, if you need me again, I'll be in my room."

He left them at the exhibit, his portly frame striding purposefully through the crowd.

"You're not really going to let him do this are you?" Bruce asked, turning to John.

"Don't worry; the head of our department won't let him anywhere near the materials." John said. Then he grinned. "I'm just not going to say anything to him right now because we need his help for the exhibition."

"He is certainly a strange boy." Diana commented.

"But the guy has genius, there's no denying that." John said, leading them to the other exhibits. "He's just a little ahead of his times. He's always jumping ahead of what we're supposed to be doing. But that's always been the problem with people who were a couple of steps ahead of others. Galileo was placed under house arrest for his support of the heliocentric model of the solar system. Einstein got kicked out of high school because the principal thought he was too dumb to learn anything. Bill Gates never bothered going to college. They just think a little differently."

"Well, that's pretty much it for now." John said, bringing them to the exit. "The fair's only properly going to begin tomorrow, so you guys can see some more cool stuff then."

"Wouldn't miss it" Clark said, clapping him on the back. "Thanks for the tour, man."

"Yes, it was very enjoyable, John. Thank you." Diana added, while Bruce shook his hand.

"My pleasure. I'll see you guys tomorrow." He waved to the three as they made their way back to the hostels.

The next day, the science fair was in full swing, with students and outsiders milling around the exhibits. John Henry was busy showing the teachers the projects. Models and experiments stood proudly atop the tables.

"This is pretty neat" Wally commented, staring around the hall. He, Arthur and John Jones had come to the fair together. "I thought it was just some charts and diagrams deal, but this place looks like a scientist convention."

"There are projects from every field here." Arthur observed. "There are bound to be some interesting things. Clark said there was some sort of project about a breathable liquid or something."

"In the corner of the room, Arthur" The three turned to see Clark, Diana and Bruce coming towards them.

"Aren't you supposed to cover the fair for the newspaper, Clark?" John Jones enquired, once they had all greeted each other.

"I'm just waiting for Lois, we're supposed to do it together." Clark said, scanning the room for her.

"Didn't you make anything for the fair, Bruce?" Wally asked. "I thought you were a science student."

"I don't do fairs, Wally." Bruce said with a shrug. "There are enough interesting projects here without my help. I just came to observe."

"Don't you always?" Clark remarked wryly. "It won't kill you to occasionally take part in the things happening around you, Bruce. Even at the expense of acting human sometimes."

"I'm not a daredevil like you, Clark." Bruce retorted. "Not all of us can handle the heart stopping suspense of finding out whether there are enough trees on campus."

"If you both could stop with the witty remarks" Diana interrupted them. "You will see Lois waving to Clark."

"Come on, Smallville." Lois called out. "Let's get going. We've got a lot of ground to cover."

"Coming, Lois" Clark called back dutifully.

Bruce made a low whipping sound only Clark could here. Clark swung his bag over his shoulder as he prepared to leave, hitting Bruce on the side of his head. "Whoops, sorry. Hope that didn't hurt. A lot."

"That's playing dirty, Kent." Bruce called out to his retreating back.

Clark made his way to where Lois was waiting for him impatiently, eager to start the hunt. They made their way to different exhibits, interviewing the people who had made the projects. At one table, they met John Henry, who was getting the volcano ready for the scheduled eruption.

"Awesome show, John." Clark congratulated him. "The hall is packed with visitors."

"I know, we didn't expect this many people." John said happily. "Were sure to get the new lab wing now."

"No chance of an antimatter explosion, I suppose." Clark said questioningly with a raised brow.

John laughed. "No way" he said. "I told you the head would never agree to it. The Whiz had a big blow up with him over it yesterday, but he flatly refused to allow it. There was nothing The Whiz could do about it, accept tear apart all the diagrams and charts he'd made. Poor guy's had a run of bad luck. He has severe bronchitis, and it acted up again, so he's resting in his room now. Although I don't suppose he would have come anyway. He had his heart set on the antimatter project."

"Yeah, it must be pretty hard on him. Still, at least the rest of us won't be blown to smithereens." Clark said. "When's the eruption scheduled for?"

"At the end of the exhibition." John answered. "It's going to be spectacular. Get a front row seat if it's still available."

"Definitely. I'll see you then. Duty calls." Clark said, pointing towards where Lois was again beckoning to him.

After Clark left with Lois, Wally, Arthur, John Jones, Bruce and Diana were left at the entrance to the fair.

"So what do you guys want to see first?" Wally asked.

"There is a model of the anatomy of the human body and effects of extreme exercise on general health." John suggested. "You might find that useful for your training, Wally."

"Cool, let's go see that." Wally said enthusiastically.

"Would you like to come see the documentary on undiscovered sea life with me, Diana?" Arthur asked with a charming smile. Even dressed casually in jeans and a top, Diana looked… wonderful.

"Oh, er... thank you Arthur." Diana said slowly with an awkward smile.

Bruce saw Diana was trying to come up with an excuse in her mind.

"Diana said she wanted to see the models of the early Greco roman architecture first, Arthur." He said blandly, stepping between him and Diana. "Shall we go, Diana?"

"Of course, Bruce." Diana quickly complied. They swung around towards the other end of the hall, leaving Arthur with a baffled look as he joined John and Wally.

"Thanks for the help Bruce." Diana said gratefully. "Arthur is a good person, but every time we talk he tries to ask me out. It is a little annoying."

"Well, now I know which topic to avoid when I'm with you." Bruce said as they made their way through the crowd.

"You were going to ask me out?" Diana asked in surprise.

"It was a joke, Diana." Bruce explained. "Clark tells me I need some improvement in that department."

"Oh" Diana said, considering. "Well, yes, I think you need a little more practise."

"Duly noted." Bruce said with a nod. "Come on, I think the architecture section is that way."

There were even more projects there that day then there had been the day before. Bruce and Diana wandered through the fair looking at models of various machines, slides of dinosaurs from the Jurassic era and segments of the evolutionary chain, from the original single celled organism found in the ocean to their present state.

"In evolutionary terms, we've become the most boring species in world." Bruce remarked. "Evolution involves adapting oneself to the environment, but we've instead forced the environment to adapt to our needs. As a result we've stopped evolving and effectively stepped out of the evolutionary ladder."

"And I am not sure that is a good thing." Diana said soberly. "I've seen the documentaries about the toll taken on the planet because of human activities. It is a horrifying spectacle."

"That misuse is going to have serious consequences someday soon." Bruce said quietly. "I just hope I'm not still alive when that happens."

"Me neither. Let's go see the breathable liquid John showed us yesterday." Diana suggested. They went to the tank, where people were watching in wonder as a mouse swam at the bottom of the tank, apparently without breathing.

"Looks like Clarks having fun." Bruce muttered. Diana turned to see Clark trailing behind Lois as she went after the students who had made the solar model.

"Clark is... different around Lois." Diana said with a perplexed frown. "And I do not understand her attitude towards Clark."

"Lois sees what she wants to see." Bruce said with a shrug. "For her, Clark is just an inexperienced country hick. Clark's upbringing is very old fashioned, and he's always been taught to be polite and courteous towards women. Lois has mistaken that politeness for shyness, and she belongs to that toughened breed of people who look upon courtesy as simpering weakness. Plus, Clark's not used to women who are as aggressive as Lois, so I'm guessing he's even more unsure of how to handle her."

"Is that your study of psychology speaking?" Diana asked, amused.

"It's an interesting situation." Bruce replied with a grin. "Can't find a lot of criminals here to use my knowledge on."

"Still, Lois is foolish for not seeing Clark's true nature." Diana said firmly. "Truly nice and genuine people are very rare, and we should hold onto to them if we are lucky enough to find them."

"I don't believe anyone is completely nice." Bruce said, shrugging. "Every person's nature has shades of grey, even Clark's. But we learn to control our darker impulses. Or we start getting idiots like Lex Luthor."

"It is that type of thinking that leads to weaknesses, Bruce." Diana said reproachfully. "We have to believe we are strong enough not to give in to our baser instincts."

"That's one way of approaching the situation." Bruce replied. "I prefer to accept my darkness and keep it under control. Never allow it the upper hand."

"And you believe accepting that darkness will ultimately help you?" Diana asked incredulously. "It will eat away inside you Bruce. You speak of acceptance instead of denial."

"That's the basic difference between optimists and pessimists Diana." Bruce said softly. "It's an age old argument that has never been resolved. So how about we just drop it?"

Diana sighed. "Clark was right, you are very stubborn." She said, and laughed as a frown appeared on his face. "Let's go see the eruption of the volcano."

They found Wally, John and Arthur gathered around the huge model along with everyone else. They all stood together waiting for the big finale to the exhibition.

"Ladies and gentlemen" John Henry announced over a microphone. "We will now give a practical demonstration of an erupting volcano made by third year mechanical and life sciences students. The eruption will be extremely realistic but harmless, so please do not be alarmed and enjoy the show."

He nodded towards a student who was standing next to him. The student brought out a remote with a single button on it. His teammates who had helped make the project all gathered around him. They looked at each other proudly. Together, they pressed the button.

The next second, everyone knew something had gone terribly wrong.

Fiery red liquid spurted out explosively from the mouth of the volcano. It spewed forth in high arcs all over the room. The people it landed on screamed in pain as angry rashes appeared wherever the liquid touched them.

At first, everyone was too stunned to react. Then, pandemonium broke out. People pushed each other out of the way to get away from the volcano. People were thrown to the floor and trodden on in the mad scramble.

Conditions worsened rapidly.

The three dimensional model of the solar system which was hanging from the roof suddenly crashed to the ground, sending shards of broken glass everywhere. A model of a car made from scrap metal started swinging around on its own, its sharpened sides cutting into people's legs. A huge globe of the Earth broke from its support and crashed into a group of people, crushing them into the wall. All across the hall the projects were falling apart or going haywire one after the other, increasing the chaos level already caused by the volcano.

Bruce, Diana, John, Wally and Arthur all stood rooted, the suddenness of the catastrophes depriving them of the will to move a muscle.

Clark stared around him in shock. He didn't know what was going on and was not sure of how to react.

Lois was quicker to recover. The exhibition had suddenly become much more interesting and suited to her taste. She took out her mobile and switched on the digicam. Climbing to the top of a table, she stood on tiptoe and was able to capture a beautiful shot of the volcano just as it was about to spew forth a particularly violent jet of liquid.

Unfortunately, this made her miss the direction of the liquid, which was aimed straight for her. She leapt off the table just in time as the liquid struck the wall behind her.

But her jump was clumsy and upon falling to the ground she collided with the leg of a table. The force of the impact knocked a model of a medieval catapult off its perch and onto the ground.

The catapult bounced off the ground, the shock triggering its release mechanism. The arrow fitted at its end flew out at a high speed, heading straight for Lois.

There was no time to react. No time for her life to flash before her eyes. All Lois could do was instinctively close her eyes.

She heard the sickening thud of the arrow finding its mark, but felt no pain. She opened her eyes slowly.

Clark Kent stood directly in front of her with his back to her, the long end of the arrow sticking out of his chest.

"Clark" Lois yelled in horror.

Clark turned to her, and Lois saw he had been holding up a sheet of metal in front of his chest, which the arrow had embedded itself into.

Seeing the jet of liquid coming towards Lois had brought Clark out of his trance. He was too late to stop her fall, but had already seen the catapult and knew he had to act quickly. With reflexes born of years of boxing, he had grabbed the sheet and held it up in front of Lois just in time.

"Lois, get out now." Clark snapped, speaking with an authority that would have surprised even him if he hadn't been so distracted. Lois found herself obeying automatically. He grabbed her hand to help her get up and hustled her towards the exit.

The others had also recovered from the shock. They made their way to the exit as ordered by the security guards, where even more guards were bellowing instructions to the frightened crowd intent upon escape.

Clark had got Lois out to safety, and he stepped up close to the exit, fully intending to follow her.

But then he hesitated. He looked at Bruce, Diana, John, Arthur and Wally, who had arrived next to him. There was a strange emotion in his eyes, which was reflected in theirs. None of them could really understand the feeling they were all experiencing at that instant.

For a long moment they all looked at each other, while the world around them screamed in panic. Bruce and Diana looked like they had already made a decision, but were still looking at Clark.

They were all looking at Clark now, their questioning gaze more urgent than ever. And suddenly he knew. The decision was imminent.

He looked at Bruce, then at Diana. A brief confirmation.

"Come on" he said abruptly, and suddenly their doubts were cleared.

Together, the six raced back into the hall.

"Spread out, everyone. We need to get to the projects and shut them down as soon as possible. Use whatever you can get your hands on to help you." Clark called out over the screams from the people. "John, Diana. See what you can do to help these people get out of the hall."

He raced towards the volcano, skilfully dodging the jets of liquid still spurting out of it. As he drew nearer he grabbed the sheet of metal with the arrow from the catapult still embedded in it. He kept the metal in front of his body, letting it take all the hits of the liquid on its surface.

Reaching the volcano, he saw John Henry trying in vain to get close enough to the model to shut it down. Clark rammed the makeshift shield into the mouth of the volcano, sealing it off.

"John, turn off the pump on this thing." He shouted.

John ran towards the rear of the project to where the pump was kept. He tried to wrench back the handle on the pump to shut it off, but the handle had been jammed tight and refused to budge.

"Clark, the handle's stuck, I'm going to have to find something to move it with." He shouted.

"Hurry, John" Clark grunted, struggling against the pressure building up inside the volcano.

John ran towards a box in which the equipment used in the fair was kept. He selected the heaviest tool he could find, a large, fearsome looking hammer, and returned to the pump.

Hammering with all his strength, John finally managed to get the handle unstuck. He pushed it back quickly, shutting off the liquid, and the volcano abruptly stopped shaking.

Clark panted, finally letting go of the arrow holding the shield in place. John came and stood next to him on the platform, still holding the huge hammer.

"God" John breathed, staring around them at the chaotic scene. "How did all this happen?"

"Don't know" Clark said, forcing himself to stand up straight again. "But we have to do what we can to stop it."

"Right" john said, gripping the hammer tightly in both hands. "I'm going to see what I can do."

At the time when Clark was running to stop the volcano, Bruce was racing towards one end of the hall, smoothly evading the falling projects and the liquid from the volcano.

He reached the architecture section. A fifteen foot model of the statue of liberty loomed up in front of him. It was shaking violently from the vibrations in the ground caused by all the frenzied movement. Bruce knew it was only a matter of time before the statue toppled over directly on top of the people moving in front of it.

Swiftly, he grabbed the long cord used to rope off some of the exhibits. He tied one end of the cord to the base of the statue. Working at top speed, he twisted several loops of the cord around the model, covering as much of its surface as possible. After every loop he clinched the rope around a nearby table end or door or window ledge.

He finished just in time. The statue finally toppled, falling as if in slow motion on the people below. There was a scream of horror from the crowds. But the statue stopped midway, restrained by the rope tied all over it, securing it to the many solid supports. Slowly, it stopped swinging and came to rest in a curious, tilted position.

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. He walked around to the back of the exhibit, scanning the model. He spotted what he was looking for and bent down to examine it.

Meanwhile Wally and Arthur were moving between the other models. Wally was racing ahead to the mechanical projects and taking apart every nut and bolt he could get his hands on till the machine stopped working and fell apart. The ones which still continued to go haywire were stabbed to pieces by Arthur, who had found a heavy harpoon at a sea vessels exhibit and was using it with the hands of an expert.

John and Diana had reached the fleeing crowds. A few guards had also run out the exit. Of the ones left many had been struck by the liquid from the volcano and falling projects, and were themselves injured. John moved between the panicking spectators, trying to calm them and get them to the exit.

"No need to be alarmed" He announced in his deep, calming voice. "Everyone please get to the exit, where you will be completely safe."

A woman suddenly stumbled, tripping over a piece of mortar that had been part of a collosseum exhibit. She collided with a cupboard, which rocked violently, then pitched over directly on top of her. The woman screamed in terror.

But John was there in an instant, holding the cupboard back with one hand and helping the woman up with the other.

"Please ma'am, no need to be alarmed" he said soothingly to the trembling woman as he helped her to her feet, his voice giving no hint of how heavy the cupboard was. "If you all walk carefully, there will be no causalities of any kind."

Diana had created a path for the crowd by overturning the tables on which the malfunctioning models and projects were kept and keeping them raised on their sides. This created a shielded trail for the people to walk through in relative safety, and gave Diana a chance to work on the numerous injuries people had sustained, using whatever cloth she could find as makeshift bandages. She kept at the front of the crowd, guiding them till they reached the exit, then she went back to check on John.

"Most of the people have gotten out, Diana." John called out to her. "We should go help the others in shutting down the projects."

"You go on without me John, I have to see to something else first." Diana shouted back, already running towards the corner of the hall.

She reached the breathable liquid exhibit. The tank had burst and water spilled out onto the floor, which had already caused a great many falls. Diana walked carefully over to the cage next to the tank that lay forgotten by everyone in their haste to leave. Inside, the two mice were screaming in absolute terror, gnawing at the wires of their cage.

Diana opened the cage door. The two mice shot out at full speed, one of them climbing all the way up to her shoulder. They scampered off towards the darker regions of the hall, and Diana knew their instincts would guide them to a safe place.

She was about to go join the others when a breaking sound caught her attention. She looked up in time to see that a thick wire cable attached to the solar panel was breaking at the point where a shard of glass from the solar model had pierced it.

Several thoughts flashed through Diana's mind. Bits and pieces of her high school learning connected the dots for her. The cable charged with electricity would fall into the broken tank whose water was now spread over most of the floor. The water would conduct the electricity across the ground, electrocuting everyone left in the hall.

There was no time for internal debate. Diana acted. Running at full speed, she jumped as high as she could, just in time to grab the wire, snagging it in midair and away from the tank. But the jump could not be controlled and she hit the wall, sliding to the dry ground where water had fortunately not spilled, still clutching the cable.

As soon as Diana's wet shoes touched the ground, the circuit was complete. Electricity ran through her body, sending jolts and shockwaves of pain along her nerve centres.

The muscles in her hand had contracted automatically, leaving her unable to release her grip. She could not even open her mouth to scream. There was only a bright flash of light as the cable short circuited, the materials used in the solar panel not being strong enough to support the damage done to it, and her body lay still on the ground.

"Diana" Clark and Bruce shouted in horror, running towards her. But they weren't as fast as Wally.

In a flash, he was at her side. With surprising strength for such a slim person, he lifted her in his arms and ran for the exit.

Diana awoke to find herself in the hospital. A nurse was checking her hand. When she saw Diana was awake, she smiled kindly.

"How do you feel, dear?" she asked, releasing her hand.

"I'm fine" Diana said weakly, trying to get up. But the nurse stopped her.

"You need rest." She said gently but firmly. "You're lucky to be alive right now. What's even more amazing is that you've only suffered first degree burns. You'll be able to leave the hospital tonight."

"What happened at the fair?" Diana asked urgently, getting up again, though the room swam slightly around her. "Is everyone all right? Did anyone get hurt?-"

"Easy, easy" the nurse said, laying her back down again. "Everyone got out alive. You were all very brave, helping out like that. Some of the people had quite serious burns and there were some nasty cuts and bruises from the other projects, but they'll all get better. Now rest, please."

"What about my friends?" Diana persisted, fighting the tired feeling threatening to overcome her. "Did they get out all right?"

"Yes, they're all fine." The nurse said, forcing her down. "Two of them are waiting outside right now. They were very worried about you. Will you lie down and rest if I send them to meet you?"

"Yes ma'am" Diana promised quickly, lying back in her bed.

The nurse left and a few minutes later, Clark and Bruce came into the room, looking extremely relieved to see her awake.

"Diana" Clark said, striding over to her side, though Bruce hung back. "Thank god you're awake. We thought-"

"I'm fine Clark" Diana assured him, although the weakness was growing in her, and her arm was beginning to hurt. "I'm just glad everyone else is safe."

"Stop checking the facilities of the hospital, Bruce" Clark said without turning around, his eyes still on Diana. "They provide good care here."

"Just checking" Bruce replied, coming to sit on the other side of Diana. "Many patients have died because of sloppy hospital care."

"Are the others safe?"Diana asked, lying back in her bed. "What happened after I fainted?"

"We got scared out of our minds." Clark said emphatically. "We saw you glow for a second and then fall down. It was terrifying. The others are safe. Arthur and John got some burns but it's nothing serious. We were more worried about you."

"It's over now" Diana said, waving her hand dismissively. "The nurse says I'll be fine by tonight. But you know, someone must have deliberately wrecked the projects. How else did they all go wrong at the same time?"

"My thoughts exactly" Clark agreed. "I talked to Bruce about it after we took care of the volcano. He showed me a vibrator that had been fixed under the statue of liberty's base, timed to start shaking after the eruption."

"I found similar booby traps on most of the other projects as well." Bruce added. "After the situation got under control Clark and I went to the guards with the evidence. They'd called in the police and fire department. But they didn't know who was to be held responsible for the damages."

"Fortunately, Bruce figured out who the person behind it was." Clark said.

"You did?" Diana asked Bruce, surprised. "How did you find that out?"

"He's had a very comprehensive background in detective work." Clark commented. "He's read all the Sherlock Holmes novels."

Diana laughed, and then winced. The movement had caused pain in her sore muscles.

"I'm sorry" Clark said, instantly contrite. "I shouldn't be making stupid jokes when you're in this condition."

"Don't worry about it, Clark" Diana said, settling down more comfortably. "How did you know who it was, Bruce?"

"There were only a few people with the kind of knowledge to arrange something on such a big scale." Bruce said with a shrug. "John Henry was an obvious choice, but he'd stayed near the volcano and tried to shut it down, even at the risk of getting hurt when he could've gotten away. It seemed unlikely that he was the culprit. One of the teachers or the head of the department didn't make sense either."

"Then who was it?" Diana asked curiously.

"Winslow Schott" Clark replied. "Or as we knew him, W.S."

"The Whiz?" Diana exclaimed. "He did this?"

"Clark told me he was in bed suffering from bronchitis today." Bruce said. "But bronchitis is a lung disease. We'd seen him yesterday working on that smoky steam engine. If he really suffered from bronchitis, he wouldn't have been able to handle all that smoke. So it was obvious he was lying."

"Then we went to his room with some guards." Clark said. "We had to break the door down because he wouldn't let us in."

"We were just in time to catch him about to begin the antimatter project in his room." Bruce said grimly. "Another few seconds and he would've started the particle accelerator, and then it would've been too late."

"I don't believe it" Diana said. "Why would The Whiz do something like this?"

"Turns out he's got a pretty vicious and nasty nature." Clark said. "He wanted to punish everyone at the fair for not supporting his experiment. So when he went to the fair yesterday to tear apart the models and diagrams he'd made, he added all the extra features to the other projects."

"But revenge wasn't his only aim." Bruce added. "While the rest of the college was busy at the hall trying to get the models under control, he intended to finish his project without any interruptions. He very nearly succeeded. But the chaos his little toys unleashed at the fair was stopped quicker than he had counted on."

"But it's all over now." Clark said bracingly. "The police have taken Winslow away, and the hall was cleaned up yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Diana repeated, startled. "How long was I unconscious?"

"A day and a half" Bruce replied. "But you needed the rest."

"So what else happened while I was out?" Diana asked, anxious to make up for the lost time.

"The fair was considered a failure, what with the dean having had a cold and not being able to attend, and of course everyone almost getting killed by the machines and models and things." Clark replied. "We had quite a long article about it in the college newspaper."

"Although that article didn't make Lois very happy." Bruce said with a smirk.

"Why not?" Diana asked in surprise. "You saved her life, Clark. What has she got to complain about?"

Clark grimaced. "Apparently, the saving bit was only a side issue with her." He said. "Our editor wanted a firsthand account of what happened inside the hall after the audience left. So I got the big scoop and my name on the front page, and Lois is mad because she thinks she would've been the one covering the thing if I hadn't thrown her out. She told me she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself and not to try to pull the gallant knight stuff on her again in the future."

"Very modern of her" Bruce commented, still smirking. "That's the stuff heroines are made of."

Clark shrugged. "Did what I thought was right." He muttered. He turned again to Diana. "There is a good side to this whole mess too. The news and TV crews have been pouring in to get the story, and they've been running it all day, naming it the toys of doom and the exhibition of death, and also writing about the heroic students who risked their lives to save others, although they spelled our names wrong. Donations have been coming in from every corner of metropolis for the hall and the new wing."

"And it seems _someone_ told the mayor about the details as well, and he's promised to halve the construction costs on the new wing." Bruce finished, with a look at Clark.

"That was a very nice thing to do, Clark." Diana said. Clark had told her who his father really was.

"Aw shucks" Clark said with mock embarrassment. "Least I could do. Specially after the very generous donation by Wayne industries."

"Then you both did a great service for the university." Diana told them, beaming "You should be awarded."

"It wasn't just us." Clark reminded her. "Working together that day felt pretty nice. The seven of us made a good team."

"Yes we did." Diana said emphatically. "I'm glad we didn't listen to the guards when they told us to get out of the hall."

"Yeah well, we'll celebrate later." Bruce said, getting up. "You still need rest."

"If you want anything, just give us a call." Clark added, rising to his feet as well. "We'll see you when you get out. Take care Diana."

"You both as well."Diana said, closing her eyes, finally succumbing to the feeling of fatigue.

As she drifted to sleep, she mused on how strange and unexpected the day at the fair had turned out to be. The first year was going to end in three weeks, after which would come the summer holidays, and then the second year.

She wondered if anything else this exciting would happen to them again while they were at college.

* * *

_**Just a few footnotes-**_

_**Liquid breathing**__**, Baryogenesis, Antimatter and the Big Bang and Big Rip theories are actual scientific facts (except for when they're theories, of course, but you know what I mean).**_

_**John Henry Irons is a character in the superman comics who is a superhero called Steel, carries a hammer and was at intervals a member of the league (sometimes reserve).**_

_**Winslow Schott is the name of the toyman from the comics.**_

_**Some readers might think I've changed Bruce's character in the story (he's not as brooding and antisocial as he is usually depicted in the comics), but this story is set in the real world without any superpowers or spandex, and the fact is, in the real world Bruce would have been locked up in a straightjacket inside a padded cell years ago if his obsession with revenge was as great as is seen in the comics (extreme depression and borderline homicidal mania do not mix well with anarchist tendencies and a pseudo napoleon complex)**_

_**So in my story, Bruce has accepted his parent's death as a sad fact of his past and moved on. He will make jokes and make mistakes, and will evolve as the story progresses.**_

_**For those who might think I made Lois's character unreasonable- Lois's reaction to Clark saving her and then getting the credit for the science fair story is similar to her reaction when Superman saved her life for the first time but gave Clark his first interview. **_


	6. Dramatic Changes

_**All the names, characters and superheroes are owned by DC comics (even though you may not believe they're superheroes, since I've taken away their powers, cool gadgets and skills, and instead made them into ordinary people who're almost as exciting as a shoebox. Can't believe there are still some people out there reading this story). **_

_**

* * *

**_DRAMATIC CHANGES

It was early in the afternoon. Diana sat in her room gazing out of the window over the gardens that stretched out in front of her.

Summer had arrived, and Diana was back at home with her mother and sister. The holidays had begun two weeks ago. After the hectic time she'd had in her first year, Diana's days were now filled with lazing around in her house and catching up with old friends.

"Diana"

She turned as a voice called her name from outside the room. The next moment, her thirteen year old sister had burst into the room in her usual energetic manner.

"What are you doing in here, Diana?" her sister demanded, coming to stand beside her.

"Just enjoying the calm, Donna." Diana replied with a smile. "The scene outside is very peaceful."

"Well come on, you can be peaceful later." Donna said, grabbing her hand and dragging her to the door. "You've only here for two more months and I've got so much planned for us to do."

"Easy, Donna, I'm coming. You don't need to pull my arm off." Diana protested, laughing as they made their way down the stairs. Her friends at college would have been amazed to see how luxurious her house was, with expensive paintings and rare ornaments adorning the rooms. These works of art were what had made Diana interested in history in the first place.

"I need to practice the javelin throw, Miss Phillipus says I've got a chance at the gold medal this year." Donna said excitedly. "You've got to teach me your style; Philly said it was the best method she'd ever seen among the students."

"Don't worry, we will practice till you're as good as I am." Diana promised. Donna attended Themyscira Academy of Learning, the same school that Diana had been a pupil of till last year. Diana had won the title of best athlete in her last two years of school, and Madam Phillipus, who was in charge of athletics at the school, had been sorry to see her leave. Now her sister showed the same promise that she had, although Donna wasn't as serious about her studies as Diana was.

"Artemis said she'd teach me, but I told her I'd wait till you got here." Donna informed her proudly.

"Why did you do that?" Diana asked in surprise. "Artemis could have taught you to throw as well as I could."

"She's not as good as you are." Donna said firmly. "And she's a cow. She would've yelled at me all the time just for fun."

"Don't call people names, Donna" Diana said reprovingly. "And Artemis is not a cow. She just gets a little competitive sometimes."

"Yeah, and she hates you because you're better than her." Donna said.

"You're being silly." Diana said. "Artemis does not hate me. She's my friend."

"She's always arguing with you." Donna protested. "She's just mad because she thinks she should've won the best athlete title last year instead of you."

"It was a very close match and there was some doubt as to the last throw. But she accepted the referee's final decision, and congratulated me afterwards as well." Diana explained. "Just because two people argue does not always mean they don't like each other. Two of my friends at college argue all the time and are always making fun of one another, but they are very good friends and respect each other a lot."

"Fine, but I still want you to teach me." Donna said resolutely. "I want to be as good as you are."

"I am sure you will be better than me after we practice a little." Diana smiled. "But a few of my old school friends are coming for a visit today and they are spending the day here, so we will start practising from tomorrow."

"Okay, Then tell me about your college." Donna said, pushing Diana onto the sofa in their living room and sitting down beside her. "How many boys do you know there?"

"Why are you so interested in that particular question?" Diana asked with a raised brow. "That is all you have asked me since I got here."

"Because I've never met a boy my own age before." Donna said impatiently. "I just want to know what they're like. Are they really immature and rude like Artemis says? Mala says that they fight all the time. And do they all go days without bathing or brushing their teeth? Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Easy, easy Donna." Diana said, raising a hand. "They're boys, not aliens from another planet. There are different types of boys, just like there are different types of girls. Some of them are violent and immature, but some of them are very helpful and polite as well. I have met several sensible and intelligent boys. And I have fortunately found some friends who are very nice and decent. And no, I don't have a boyfriend. Can you imagine what mother would do to him and to me if she found out?"

"And you don't like any of them that way either?" Donna demanded.

"No, I don't." Diana said with an amused shake of her head. "I was busy settling in at the university and managing my classes last year, and I was not interested in dating the type of boys who asked me out."

"Wow, you have a boring life there." Donna said with a sigh, sinking back into the sofa. "I can't believe you've been away for a whole year and you still don't have anything interesting to tell me."

Diana kept quiet. She had not told anyone at her house about what had happened to her at the science fair, since it would have caused her friends and family unnecessary worry. She had recovered completely from her accident, but she knew her mother was quite capable of removing her from the university if she thought it was a dangerous place. Fortunately the TV channels and newspapers that had run the story of the fair had been more interested in the criminal aspect of the day, and the few who had reported on the activities of Dianna and her friends had got their names wrong.

"What about the other students?" Donna demanded. "Tell me about them. Who do you hang out with?"

"We have people from a lot of different places at the university." Diana said. "A friend of mine is from Africa. He was defected from his home country because the ongoing civil war was threatening his safety. He doesn't talk about his home, so I can only imagine the pain he is experiencing. But he is intensely private about his personal life and it would be rude of me to pry, no matter how much I want to help him. Another friend is an incredible distance runner. There are talks of him winning Olympic gold, but he says he needs a lot more training before he can think about that. He is a good person and very cheerful. I am sure you would like him a lot. Arthur is another good friend I've made their, despite his rather amorous nature. He can come across as a little arrogant at first but he is a very genuine person, and caring in his own way. Then there's Bruce Wayne-"

"Bruce Wayne!" Donna said excitedly. "I've seen his photos in magazines. He's so cute. And really rich too. Do you mean you're actually friends with him?"

"Yes, I am."Diana said, amused by Donna's reaction. "And he is not the irresponsible playboy the magazines seem to expect him to be, despite his wealth. He is an extremely intelligent person, and more interested in science than girls. In fact, he might scare you a little, because he has a somewhat loner nature. He does not appreciate anyone getting too friendly with him, and can be very pessimistic and gloomy sometimes. Then there is Clark Kent."

"Who's he?" Donna demanded.

"He is the first male friend I made in college." Diana said. "And that is a good thing. He changed the opinion mother and Artemis had given me, that all boys are violent and disrespectful, and only see women as objects. He is also the one who introduced me to Bruce and the others."

"So is he cute?" Donna asked bluntly.

Diana sighed, exasperated. "Donna, everything is not connected to looks. He was very seriously ill before coming to college, and that took a toll on his health and appearance so he is not what you would call good looking, although he has very attractive dimples. But he is a very nice and understanding person, and can be very funny when he wants to be."

"Who has very attractive dimples?" a voice called out from the study.

Diana and Donna turned to the direction of the voice and immediately jumped to their feet. Their mother stood at the door of her study and was watching them closely.

"Mother" Diana said with a smile, as their mother made her way over to them. "I thought you had gone to see Epione today."

"She was not at home when I called." Her mother said, receiving her daughters hug with a smile. "So I thought I might as well get some work done."

Diana's mother was a well preserved woman in her forties. It was clear from a glance that Diana and her sister had inherited their Grecian good looks from her. She had the appearance of a kindly but firm queen. Her bearings were regal to a high degree. When she was angry, she looked like a queen about to declare war on a neighbouring kingdom. When she was happy, a queen well pleased with her subjects. When she had a bad head cold, she looked like...well... a queen with a bad he - am I over explaining here? You get the picture.

She walked into the room and sat in an armchair with a questioning look on her face. "Well Diana, tell me, who has very attractive dimples?" she repeated.

Diana blushed. "It was nothing mother." She said hurriedly. "Donna was being silly. We were just talking about the types of boys I have met in college, and how different they all are. And I just said… one of them has… dimples…"

Her voice trailed away feebly under her mother's piercing gaze. Mrs. Hippolyta Prince was the headmistress of the school that Diana had once attended, and Diana had always held her in awe. The look her mother was now giving her was the one she used to give to pupils who were caught talking during prayers, and it made her feel twelve years old again, whispering to Artemis when she should have been contemplating the divine.

"I see" her mother said in voice that made it clear that she did not like what she saw. "Well, I am glad you have had some pleasant experiences at the college. Do you think it will be worthwhile, going there for four years?"

"Definitely mother, the standard of education is very high there, and it is a very pleasant environment." Diana said quickly. She knew her mother had not wanted to send her away in the first place, and would have preferred sending her to a college in their own city. But Athena and Zeus, Diana's godparents, had both insisted that a bright and inquisitive student like Diana needed more experience in a culturally diverse environment to broaden her outlook on life. Hippolyta greatly valued their opinions and knew that she had provided a very guarded and sheltered life for Diana which she sometimes found constricting. So she grudgingly allowed her to go to Metropolis University. But even now she just needed an excuse to bring Diana back to Boston for good.

"Well then, I must get back to my correspondence. The school treat for the ninth graders is to be arranged for next week, and it means dealing with a lot of red tape." Hippolyta said, rising to her feet. "Donna, do not waste your sister's time with silly questions. You should be asking her how she manages her study time and class assignments, important matters like that. "

"Yes mother." Donna said promptly, although it was clear from her expression that her idea of important matters was not the same as Hippolyta's.

"Now go and fetch my seal stamp from the desk in my bedroom. Take it to my study" Hippolyta said. Donna ran lightly out of the room, with a backward grimace at Diana from behind her mother's back.

Hippolyta gazed at Diana. "Be careful of what you tell your sister, Diana." She said gravely. "She is young and innocent, and takes whatever you say very seriously. Do not put the wrong ideas about college in her head."

"Of course not mother." Diana said soberly. "I would never tell Donna anything that might cause her to get into trouble. And Donna is not the type of person who would do stupid things that she hears about from others." Her mother nodded in agreement, sitting down opposite Diana.

"Now about these boys" Hippolyta said quietly, leaning back in her chair. Diana felt a sinking sensation. She knew this was the real reason her mother had sent Donna away. She wanted to talk to Diana alone.

"Diana, tell me truthfully, have the men at the college given you any cause for complaint?" Hippolyta asked her seriously. "Do not try to keep anything from me, even if you think it is too small a matter to be significant."

"Mother, there is absolutely nothing to complain about." Diana said earnestly. "The people are decent there, and the boys are very polite and respectful. There will always be some little problems no matter where I go, and I will learn to deal with them. I am having a wonderful time at the college. And everyone, even the male students, are too busy in their own lives and studies to bother me."

"You do not know how lecherous men can be." Hippolyta said, shaking her head. "And you do not understand the effect your looks have on them. But I know I can trust you to take care of yourself, and tell me immediately if you are in any kind of trouble. I can trust you to do that, right?" She ended sharply.

"Of course, mother." Diana said quickly.

Her mother nodded, getting off her chair. "Very well then, I will return to my study now. I know you are expecting your friends soon. I am glad you have gotten the chance to meet them again."

Hippolyta left, leaving Diana deep in thought in her memories of college.

The bell rang and Diana went to answer it. She found a girl with flaming red hair and bright, fierce eyes on the front step. Artemis had a smile of welcome on her face as the two friends greeted each other.

"I was wondering when you would come by." Diana said, leading Artemis into the living room. "All the other friends from school have already been to see me."

"I wanted to come alone." Artemis said, giving Diana a hug. "Being with too many people making too much noise gets on my nerves. Plus I wanted to see you alone, so you could tell me everything about the university. With all the gory details"

"My college seems to be the topic of the day here." Diana said with a sigh. "That is what mother and Donna have been asking me about as well. What would you like to know about first?"

"How are the studies there?" Artemis asked eagerly.

"Excellent" Diana said. "The teachers are very learned and helpful."

She felt a stab of guilt talking about Metropolis University to Artemis. Diana knew Artemis was as free spirited as she was, and would have given anything to be able to go to metropolis to study, after the cloistered environment of Themyscira. But Artemis was from a poor family and it was not possible for her mother to afford to send her away to college. Diana knew Artemis was slightly jealous of her because she had got to go instead, but there was nothing Diana could do to improve the situation.

"And the people?" Artemis demanded. "I've heard the seniors and teachers can be very obnoxious."

"Some of them are." Diana admitted. "Some of the students like Lex Luthor and Kalibak and Lobo. And the principal is not a very pleasant person."

"Of course they're not." Artemis said with a sneer. "They're men after all. I told you you'd meet scum like that when you were going away."

Diana knew of Artemis's disdain for men. She had good reason for it. Her father had left her mother a week after her birth in a desperately weak condition. If it hadn't been for Hippolyta's generosity and help, both Artemis and her mother would probably have died. It was why Artemis was so fiercely loyal towards Diana's mother, and had a dislike for the male species, which fifteen years of studying in an all girl's school had not improved.

"Not all of them are bad." Diana said, trying to defend her college. "I have met some nice and decent boys, who have been very helpful and friendly towards me."

"Yeah, I bet they're friendly." Artemis said with a sneer. "Don't you remember when we went on that field trip in ninth grade, how all those boys stared at you, and what they said?"

Diana blushed at the memory. "That is not what the boys at my college are like." She said angrily. "They would never try anything like that with me." Even as she said it she was trying to decide in her mind if it was really true. John was a gentle person, despite his large size. He would never try anything inappropriate with her. Wally was also a very decent person, and would not dream of hitting on her. Arthur had made some advances, but he was an extremely well mannered boy, and never tried to press her when she signalled that she was not interested. And Clark and Bruce? Of all the boys, Diana had come to know those two the most. No, they would surely never try anything with her. Clark was the most level headed and sensible person she had ever met. The decency and sincerity in his personality were evident to everyone who met him. Bruce again was not the type of person to force his attentions on anyone. He was in fact the type of person to start running in the opposite direction if he thought he was getting too close to someone.

"They are not the evil people that you think they are." Diana said more firmly. "They are my friends, and I trust them."

"And how many of these trustworthy friends have you met in the summer?" Artemis asked shrewdly.

"That is not fair." Diana said indignantly. "You know mother would never allow me to have male friends over at the house. And I cannot go out of Boston to visit them either."

"Then have they at least called you?" Artemis asked at once, sensing Diana's hesitation. "Left you a not? Sent you a message? Anything to tell they still exist?"

"You are being paranoid." Diana said firmly, taking Artemis's hand and leading her into the kitchen. "Perhaps a taste of our fudge cake will stop you thinking that every boy I meet is trying to take advantage of me."

She led a still expostulating Artemis into the kitchen towards the fridge, partly to keep Artemis quiet, but mainly because her arguments had touched a sore spot.

Since the start of the holidays, Diana had not been in contact with any of her college friends. No messages to remind her she had any. She could not even call them since she did not have their numbers. John was busy with the UN authorities about his deportation arrangements, and Wally was involved an extremely demanding training regime called the speed force factor run by a Mr. Jay Garrick, to help him with his training. She knew they were both too busy to call. She herself had not given Arthur her number, fearing that his flirtatious manner might get her into trouble with her mother.

But what really stung was that neither Clark nor Bruce had called her either. She had thought they had become good friends in the previous year, but apparently not good enough to warrant a phone call. Bruce had only called her once, and it had been a short call. Bruce was not the type of person who was comfortable with small talk over the phone. She knew he was too misanthropic to deal with phone calls and staying in touch with friends, but even Clark had not given her a single phone call or letter.

There was also the worry at the back of her mind, which her conversation with Donna had brought to the surface. She imagined Clark as she had seen him the first time they met. The bulky clothes two sizes too big for him since his weight loss after the illness. The thin face topped by the huge glasses that had to be pushed up repeatedly back into place. The skinny frame with the large hands and feet, and the diffident manner of a small town farm boy in a big city. His true personality had surfaced in the company of his friends, but as the year had come nearer its end, she remembered the change it had wrought in him. His cheeks had become even more sunken and sallow, the dark circles under his eyes growing bigger, the tall frame growing steadily thinner and more bent. Although she hated to admit it, the signs were clear.

Clark was growing sicker and weaker every day.

It was a horrifying spectacle, watching him wasting away in front of her. She had talked about it to him once, but he had brushed the matter aside, saying that the medication he was on would eventually get him his health back. Now with his silence over the summer, the fears had become magnified.

The one time she had talked to Bruce, he had seemed to have some idea about Clark's health. He had said that Clark was fine, but it sounded to Diana as though he was not very confident. There had been something odd about his manner, a hint of excitement that was usually absent from his detached, clinical voice. From the few hints he had let fall she gathered that some event was taking place that was weighing on his mind, something that had an uncertain outcome. But again, he had not confided in her the details.

Diana sighed inwardly as she helped Artemis finish the fudge cake. It seemed friendships with members of the other sex were not as easy as she'd hoped. She still had a lot to understand about male and female interactions.

Bruce came down the staircase for breakfast. He found Alfred waiting for him at the table with his usual air of calm efficiency and refinement. At all times Alfred exuded an air of calm efficiency and refinement. He had taken care of Bruce ever since his birth and was the one who knew him the longest. His reserved manner might give people the impression of an unemotional person for whom Bruce was nothing but an employer, but those who knew them well were aware of the deep bond that existed between the two.

"Good morning, Master Bruce." Alfred said courteously. "I trust you had a good night's sleep?"

"Can't complain, Alfred." Bruce said, taking his seat at the table. "Where's Dick?"

"Master Dick was about to have a bath when last I went to check, sir." Alfred said. "He should be coming down shortly."

And sure enough, a clatter of footsteps down the stairs announced the arrival of twelve year old Dick Grayson.

"Sorry I'm late." He said hurriedly, taking his seat opposite Bruce. "Couldn't find my toothbrush."

Bruce refrained from making any critical comments. Instead, he motioned for Alfred to serve the food.

"So Bruce, you met Jim Gordon yet? He told me there was something up at Bludhaven that he wanted to talk to you about." Dick said, digging into his plate.

"Yes, I've talked to him." Bruce said, concentrating on his food. "That incident has been dealt with."

"He was saying something about Jean Paul too." Dick said, glancing up at him quickly. "You think he's back in town?"

"I doubt it." Bruce said with a frown. "We made it clear what the rules in Gotham were to him."

"He sounded like he meant business this time." Dick persisted. "Maybe I should go with you-"

"No, Dick" Bruce said sharply. "I'll handle it on my own."

Dick subsided in his chair with a sigh. "You never let me come with you on anything."

"When you get older maybe I will." Bruce said.

"Are you this fun at college too?" Dick asked sarcastically.

"I'm a riot." Bruce replied with a sardonic grin. "They can't get a party started there without me."

"Yeah right" Dick snorted. "More like a funeral. I bet you didn't make any friends there either."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" Bruce asked. "Since when did I care about popularity contests?"

"Master Dick was merely joking, master Wayne." Alfred said swiftly, intervening before the argument could escalate. "He is upset because you have not shared a lot about your experiences at your college."

"Yeah, exactly" Dick said complainingly. "Not a single word about that place."

"Okay, so what do you want to know?" Bruce asked, sitting back with a sigh.

"What sort of people have you met there?" Dick demanded. "What are the other students like?"

"Pretty much like at school, only without parental supervision." Bruce shrugged. "Some of the students are quite sensible, but a few others are complete idiots. I've met some fairly interesting people. One of them is really the fastest runner I've ever seen, possibly Olympic level fast, if he continues to practice for a few more years. He's extremely fit, but his training's concentrated on running rather than overall fitness. Another one's had to be deported from his own country for his safety. He doesn't talk much, so it's possible he's suffering from post trauma depression, plus his psyche must have been severely affected by the violence he saw at close range, perhaps resulting in repression of disturbing memories and consequent imbalance to his mental frame. He's pretty strong, but again, I doubt he's had any actual training. Then there's this guy whose father made a lot of money from developing sea vessels. I thought he was just an ordinary rich brat at first, but he actually has quite a helpful nature, so it's probable that the arrogance is simply a high level of confidence in himself, his abilities and his station in life. Little possibility of mental disturbance, I think, although his attitude might cause personal complications for him. His movements suggest possible training in combat, albeit at a basic level. Then there's-"

"Bruce" Dick exploded. "You're doing it again."

Bruce blinked. "Doing what?"

"Talking like an audio version of those books you're always reading. Like a robot."

Bruce looked at Alfred, who was trying to hide his smile. "I was?" he asked.

"Perhaps a trifle detached, sir" Alfred said tactfully. "I believe Master Dick wants to know about your relationships with your classmates and any personal experiences you may have to relate, rather than a prognosis of their mental conditions."

"Oh" Bruce said, considering. "Right. Well, we... we've had some interesting conversations."

He paused, trying to think of some interesting conversations. He didn't think the discussions he had had with Clark about the questionable behaviour of the so called heroes in the Greek legends would interest Dick, or the debate they'd had over the true nature of right and wrong. He decided a fight would be the best experience to relate.

So he told Dick and Alfred about the incident in the cafeteria with Luthor. Dick was suitably impressed and insisted Bruce show him which hand lock he had used. Alfred looked concerned.

"I took to understand sir, that Master Clark's health was still extremely precarious..." he said.

"He doesn't spend time debating over what's best for his health if he sees someone in trouble, Alfred." Bruce said with a shrug. "It's quite annoying to me too. But he's better now, I think."

"That's great" Dick said happily. "So when will Clark come over to the manor again?"

"I was experimenting with the recipe for the beef bourguignon that Master Clark is fond of." Alfred added. "I would like his opinion of it."

Clark had visited Bruce's home twice since getting to know him, and Bruce was surprised to see how quickly Dick and even Alfred had warmed to him. Generally the type of boys Bruce called over were rich acquaintances of the highest society whose fathers had interests in Wayne industries. Bruce had to admit they were not the type to endear themselves to their fellow men, being too caught up in their own importance. Clark was the first person of Bruce's acquaintance whom he had seen Alfred approve of so quickly.

"I don't know if he'll come." Bruce said, returning to his food. "It's up to him."

"I hope he comes before the summer ends." Dick said wistfully. "I wanted to show him the throw I'd learnt in baseball practice." Clark had spent an entire visit playing ball with Dick, correctly guessing that Bruce was not the type of person to do such things with him. His manner towards Dick was not condescending or overbearing, but friendly and interested. Dick had begged Bruce to invite him over again.

"I don't think Clark will be able to come over this summer." Bruce said quietly, not looking up from his plate.

Alfred gave him a curious look at his tone, but forbore to say anything.

The meal finished with a few more stories about the college, with Dick going wild over what had happened at the fair, and Alfred looking concerned till Bruce assured him he had not been hurt, but had rather enjoyed the mental and physical challenge that day had offered.

"Okay, maybe it's not such a bad place after all." Dick said with a sigh. "I hope I get to go there too."

"Not for another six years." Bruce said. "Now if you'll both excuse me, I have work to do."

"Sure, shut yourself away again." Dick muttered. "Back to that cave of yours. Why do you like that place anyway? It's always so dark there."

"It's a soothing atmosphere." Bruce replied. "It helps me think."

"And you get to hang out with your pet bats while you exercise and surf the net." Dick said with a smirk. Bruce refrained from commenting. It was an old debate between them. Dick could not understand why he would like the cave so much.

Bruce made his way down to the artificially constructed underground cavern beneath his ancestral house that had been the seat of an uprising against the Nazi government during world war two. It consisted of a huge room with his computers and various other gadgets piled into a corner, with a section devoted to exercise instruments. The roof of the cave was lined with bats awaiting the night to begin their hunts.

Bruce strolled into the cave and glanced up at the bats hanging upside down, eyes closed. He knew people found it strange that he did not bother to have them removed from his cave, but Dick was right to some extent. The bats weren't his friends but he did find them extremely interesting.

Despite what a lot of people believe, bats are not actually blind. There eyesight is as good, and in the case of some species better than that of human beings. What really made them different was their ability to echolocate. Bats produce a series of shouts in very fast progression, which are too high pitched for human hearing. These sound waves bounce off their surroundings. The sound is then reflected back to their brains, which have evolved specially to gather the minutest details from the shouts, from the position and distance of the prey, to their movements and size. Forget ESP, bats had already developed the sixth sense at the time when humans were still trying to figure out how to get started on inventing fire. Whenever bats went in for the hunt, they already had a map of the whole situation in their heads, and a plan in place to get to their quarry.

Bruce liked that about them a lot.

Now he went to sit in front of his computer and turned on the internet. He surfed randomly through some sites, but his mind was elsewhere. The conversation upstairs had brought back certain disturbing thoughts to his mind.

Since the start of the holidays Bruce had not been in communication with anyone from the college. Nothing new of importance had occurred that might be of interest to them, or worth calling them to mention. It had not occurred to him that they might simply like to chat. The intricacies of friendship were not Bruce's strong point. Then there was the matter of Clark.

Finding out about Clark had been an accident. He had phoned him once and Clark's mother had picked up. She had told him about her son's condition, the worry apparent in her voice. He had tried to console her as best as he could, although he did not feel confident himself.

No matter how much they argued, Bruce knew he and Clark had some things in common. One of those things was that they both preferred to handle their problems on their own. Clark was always ready to help others who were in trouble, but he was just as firm about managing his own difficulties as Bruce was. It was not a masochistic tendency, or even pig headedness, but a strong streak of independence that they both possessed, the desire to meet their weaknesses head on and win over them.

Bruce knew Clark would not have had the time or the inclination to talk to his friends about his situation. He had tried to convey as much to Diana the one time he had talked to her, but he couldn't tell her about Clark's personal life without getting his permission first. Now all he could do was sit in the cave and wait for further developments.

Bruce walked over to the table that was crammed with the latest gadgets and tools of cutting edge technology that he had found to be of interest. He picked up his mobile and selected Clark's number. But then he hesitated.

Bruce's problem was that he had never had a lot of friends, having never had the type of temperament that needed to be part of a large group. He had had little in common with the boys that he had met of his own age in Gotham. As a result he found the community environment at his college new and intriguing, and also quite challenging.

For once he was conscious of a feeling of inadequacy. This was not a social situation that he was familiar with, and was not sure how to convey support to Clark without coming across as too pitying or condescending.

Bruce wondered whether he should ask Alfred, but then decided not to worry the butler unnecessarily.

He deliberated for a few more seconds, frowning at the number. But then his forehead cleared. He realised he had been making a mistake in trying to think up unfamiliar words of commiseration. Clark was very good at reading people. Bruce knew the best thing he could do was be honest and be the person he actually was, the person Clark knew.

Gripping the mobile firmly, he typed the message.

Clark Kent was in pain. Horrible, back breaking pain. The type of pain that leaves you unable to focus or move a muscle. When all you want to do is to leave your body behind and stop thinking.

He lay panting on the floor, his breath coming in ragged gulps as he fought to breathe. As soon as his mind could focus again, the thought came to him that the sessions were getting harder and more painful to bear. He wondered how long he could hold on.

A beep from his mobile redirected his attention. Gritting his teeth, he pushed against the floor with his hands and raised himself off the ground. He got up and made his way slowly to the table. Gingerly picking up his mobile, he selected the new message icon. The message appeared on the screen. It was only a line long.

_Time to take back control, Kent._

Clark gave a tired chuckle as he read the message. Without bothering to check who the sender was, he placed the phone back on the table. Then, he sank slowly back to the floor.

Lois Lane entered the college campus with rapid strides. The new term had begun, and today was the day of the grand reopening. Students milled around the campus, some looking to get themselves registered, others trying to get to their hostels to unpack. There was a general air of excitement and happiness as friends were reunited. If Lois hadn't been so absorbed in her own thoughts, she might have noticed that the excitement level was higher than usual, and in fact, had a focus on one of the students.

But Lois was too busy brooding to notice anything. She had had a big argument with her father just before her return to her college. Her father strongly disapproved of what he considered her reckless behaviour in her capacity as a journalist, and the risks she got herself into to get to her stories. When she had told him she knew how to take care of herself, he's pointed out how she had almost died at the science fair in her eagerness to get the scoop on the story. The bickering had lasted for almost half an hour. Lois was used to arguing with her father but it was always a draining experience, leaving her touchy and ready to lash out at anyone she met.

She was making her way to the hostel when she felt someone grab her shoulders from behind. She turned irritably, a frown on her face, to find Cat in front of her, who had the biggest smile Lois had ever seen on her face.

"What is it, Cat?" Lois snapped, conscious of the ungraciousness of the greeting, but too tired to care.

Cat said nothing, continuing to grin at her, not in the least bit offended by Lois's tone. She stared at Lois, her smirk growing wider and wider as Lois looked at her impatiently.

Then abruptly, Cat turned them both around, gripping Lois's arm and steering her through the campus to the building where the administrative work was done. She ignored Lois's protests, searching through the crowds of students.

Finally, they reached a hallway where a large group of students were standing waiting outside the counsellor's office. Cat released Lois's arm.

"What's wrong with you?" Lois demanded. "Why did you bring me here?"

In reply, Cat pointed mutely to where a group of students were coming out of the counsellor's office. Lois followed the direction of Cat's finger, finally seeing who she was pointing at.

Her jaw dropped.

In the hallway of the building where classes were held, Diana searched her locker for the key of her study cupboard that she had left behind last year. She had known that the key would be safe in the locker and so had not bothered to retrieve it before the holidays. As she ran her hand across the recesses of the locker, she noticed several girls nearby talking together in whispers, their excited voices clearly audible to her.

"I bet he's a first year..."

"Saw him talking to Professor Metron..."

"You think he's got a girlfriend?..."

"I saw him, and I was like- Oh. My. _God_..."

All of which led Diana to surmise that a new student had enrolled in the college whose personal charms were distracting the female students. She wondered who the person was. She remembered how silly the girls had been about Bruce and Arthur in their first year, akin to the reaction of the boys to her own admission. She assumed the new arrival was going to get a similar treatment.

A squeal of excitement from the group of girls announced the arrival of the mysterious newcomer. Diana delved further into her locker, determined not to stare and make a fool of herself like the other girls.

A light tap on her shoulder and a greeting in a low voice made her freeze in disbelief. She could not believe a stranger, more importantly a junior, would try to get friendly with her without a formal introduction, when there were a dozen other girls clearly indicating that they would like nothing better than to talk to him.

She turned to face the stranger with an expression that would have made an iceberg shiver. Having seen him she stared, her eyes growing wide.

Warm, bright blue eyes sparkling with amusement met hers, thawing out her cold expression immediately. An untidy spit curl fell carelessly across the high forehead, the high cheekbones and a shapely nose adding to the strong impression the face made. Diana was conscious of very broad shoulders set above a wide chest. The half sleeved t-shirt revealed a pair of powerful arms, the muscles rippling smoothly under the skin. A small laugh escaped the full lips, and Diana saw a familiar pair of dimples peep out.

"Oh, come on" the familiar deep, gentle voice said. "I haven't changed that much, have I?"

"Clark?" Diana gasped.

* * *

_**You guys really thought I was gonna leave Clark in his nerdy image for the entire story? STEP BACK PEOPLE, THE MAN OF STEEL IS IN THE HOUSE! **_


	7. Confused Reflections and Receptions

**_All characters and names are owned by DC comics. I own nothing of the characters and am making no profit from the story, except the satisfaction of screwing with icons that are decades old._**

_**

* * *

**_CONFUSED RECEPTIONS AND REFLECTIONS

Wally carefully took the tray with the six bottles of coke to the table where Clark, Bruce, Diana, Arthur and John were waiting for him, and placed it in the centre.

"I think a toast is in order." Wally said, taking a bottle and raising it in the air. The others followed his example. "To the new and improved version of Clark Kent. May he always look like he wants to give the rest of us guys a huge inferiority complex."

Clark grinned as everyone cheered and downed their drinks. "Thanks Wally, mighty generous of you to buy us all the drinks."

"That's okay, Bruce is paying anyway." Wally said cheerfully.

"I am?" Bruce asked. Wally gave him a look and he sighed. "Fine, although I don't really like coke." He saw everyone's exasperated expressions and continued hastily. "But it's okay. It's a celebration. i understand..."

"And now, Clark, maybe you'd like to tell us how this happened?" Arthur said after downing his drink.

"Yes, how did you manage to effect such a dramatic change in you appearance?" John asked. "You look like a before and after ad for some medicine for anorexia."

"Careful, John." Wally said with a grin. "Don't say anything to annoy him. He looks like he can do a lot of damage if he goes psycho boxer on us now."

Clark laughed. The atmosphere at the table was jubilant, and he felt a warm glow as he looked at his friends laughing and joking, there relief upon seeing his improved appearance apparent, which showed how worried they had all been.

"First of all, I'd like to apologise for the fact that I haven't been in touch with anyone over the summer." Clark began. "I know it was abominably rude of me, and I'm really sorry guys. I just didn't want to worry any of you but," Clark took a deep breath. "The truth is, I was really sick over the summer. In fact, when the holidays began, there was a time when the doctors were pretty sure I wouldn't survive the next month."

The mood at the table had changed. Clark saw the shocked faces of his friends, all except Bruce, who already knew all this.

"But I'm all better now." Clark said lightly, trying to alleviate the atmosphere, and now wishing he hadn't been so abrupt in imparting the news. "The doctors have given me a clean bill of health, and I've really never felt better."

"You should have told us Clark." Diana said reproachfully. "We were so worried. What exactly happened?"

"You all know I was sick before I came here." Clark said quietly, his voice growing serious. "Really sick. As a result of my long illness, my body's immune system was weakened greatly."

Clark gazed at his friends and continued softly. "For the last year I've been taking medicines to strengthen my immune system and get my health back. The medication should have gotten me back to normal by now."

Clark paused and looked at Diana, whom he had told this last year. "Unfortunately, my health was not getting better. In fact, I just seemed to be getting weaker. Finally, a week before the holidays, my father had me re-examined. The results were definitely not pretty."

Clark stared down at his plate and continued grimly. "The medication I'd been taking had caused a side reaction in my body. For the last year, my body had been falling apart and my central nervous system getting weaker, and closer to the point of total collapse. By the time the doctors found this out it was almost too late. My medication was stopped immediately. I have... never seen my father so angry before."

Clark paused. The week after leaving the medication have been hard..., and extremely painful. There was no point in upsetting his friends with that particular story.

"So anyway" he resumed. "Once I recovered from my illness, and then my medication, I started getting better. Then I started working out again. Pretty soon I was back to my old self."

The others looked surprised at the slightly abrupt ending, but did not say anything. Clark did not want to upset them with story of his recovery. They didn't need to know that for the first week after leaving the medication his body had rebelled against being cut off from the drug that it had gotten used to. They didn't need to know that it had taken him a week more just to stand up without passing out. All he had done while lying in bed all those days had been eating a lot of food, his appetite improving as his body was weaned off medicines. And they certainly didn't need to know how risky it had been for him to take up exercise again so soon after getting better. His parents and doctors had been dead set against it, and the initial phase of exercising had of necessity been very slow and careful. It was impossible to say how potentially dangerous those backbreaking hours in the gym would have been if there had been the slightest mistake or slip up on his part.

But Bruce had been right. He had let the disease take over his life for long enough. It was time to take back control. The days of the initial illness had been a nightmare for Clark. Remaining in a half delirious state most of the time, having his mother wait on him night and day like he was an invalid on his deathbed, watching his body waste away in front of his eyes, and the feeling of weakness and uselessness had been as bad as the recovery. Clark knew he could not have allowed himself any other path then the one he had chosen, no matter how painful it had been. And now, feeling fitter and stronger than ever before, with no more headaches or medication to bother him and with his friends around him, laughing and talking, he knew he had made the right choice. It was good to be back.

Bruce sat back in his chair and gazed around the table at everyone else. He was reminded of the time, almost exactly a year ago, when he had sat like that, trying to get used to being around so my people his own age. But there was a difference between that scene and the present one. A big, broad shouldered difference with a spit curl across the forehead.

Bruce had to admit he was impressed by the change Clark had managed to bring to his physique. He was still lean, but obviously very strong and muscular. And judging by the width of his shoulders, he was going to grow bigger still. When regular people thought of exercise, they pictured slow and steady running at the gym, weight lifting with their friends, or rhythmic exercises shown in exercise videos. But there was a darker side to exercise, which only people who were really serious about raising their fitness to another level ever considered.

Bruce was one of those people. Clark had explained to everyone in one line that he had simply started exercising to regain his health. Bruce doubted any of them really understood the extreme pain and exhaustion that type of exercise involved, especially if you had just recovered from a serious illness. Bruce knew the summer had been spent by Clark in excruciating pain and discomfort which the normal man never even contemplated. It was a testament to how determined Clark had been to get back to his old life that he had gone through so much. Physically he was the Clark Kent that he had been before the illness.

But mentally? Bruce wondered. He realised that he did know this new Clark very well. Who knew what the change in his health might have wrought in his psyche? When Bruce had gone to visit Clark in Smallville, he had met Clark's old sparring partner, Capen Morrel. Cap had told Bruce about some of Clark's experiences in the ring, which Bruce had had trouble believing of the skinny, gentle boy he had come to know. Cap had spoken with great respect and admiration of the person Clark became in the ring, when he was sure no one other than him would get hurt. The speed and strength he exhibited as he wove around the ring. The only one who could take on the unstoppable Hulk. Bruce wondered what fighting someone like that would be like.

Now as Bruce watched Clark he wondered if he would ever get to see that side of Clark. He doubted he would. Clark's physique might have changed, but on the inside he still seemed to be the same old Clark Kent, laughing and joking with his friends, seemingly oblivious to the looks of deep interest he was getting from passersby, most of them females. Still the same harmless and carefree person.

Except that he wasn't, Bruce noticed suddenly. He had missed it at first. But now that he paid attention he saw it. The tall frame was always bent ever so slightly, just enough to bring him to eye level with whoever he was talking to. The shoulders were bent as well, making his frame look smaller than it really was. There was even something different about his manner. More cautious, as though aware that people might find him physically intimidating, and taking care not to scare them. Considerate, to the last, of other people's feelings.

"_Always the boy scout_." Bruce thought wryly. Afraid of hurting or intimidating anyone in any way. But maybe that was a good thing.

The break came to an end and everybody rose to get to their classes. Diana and Clark waited for Bruce to go pay for the drinks at the counter.

Clark saw Diana looking at him quizzically. He quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

Diana smiled, then hesitated. "Clark I hope you do not take this as undue criticism..."

"What is it, Diana?" Clark asked. He grinned. "I promise I won't go all psycho boxer on you."

Diana laughed. "Well, do you think you are wise to remove your glasses as well? I assume you are using contact lenses now, but they can be quite troublesome, and if you have left the glasses simply because they might seem unfashionable..."

Clark looked uncomfortable. "Yeah... about those glasses" he said awkwardly. "I never actually needed them."

"What?" Diana said in surprise. "Then why did you wear them?"

"Well, see, the truth was, I was a little nervous about coming to a big city like metropolis after staying in Smallville forever." Clark said, blushing slightly. "So I took a pair of my dad's old glasses, replaced the lenses with zero power lenses, and brought them here."

Diana continued to stare at him. Clark blushed even more deeply.

"I know it sounds silly, but I felt safer with the glasses on me. Felt like my dad was with me and was helping me get used to the university and metropolis and stuff..." his voice trailed away and his eyes became very interested in the tiled floor.

Suddenly Diana started giggling. It was the first time Clark had heard her giggle. She tried to stop, but the image of the tall, impressive figure making the strange confession was too much, and she giggled harder.

"Well, if you're quite done, maybe it's time I went to class. Glad I could amuse you." Clark said huffily, as he made to leave.

"No, wait. I'm sorry Clark." Diana gasped, trying to control her laughter. "It's not so bad. I understand why you did it. I did something similar as well."

"Really?" Clark said, interested. "What did you do?"

Now it was Diana's turn to blush. But Clark had been honest with her. "My godparents gave me a length of rope made of gold as a birthday present when I was a child." She said. "I and my friends used to love to play with it. We pretended it was a magic rope which could grow very long, like Rapunzel's golden hair, and that if you tie it around yourself then you always have to tell the truth. We used to play truth or dare with it. When I came here I brought the lasso with me because it reminded me of my home and my friends. So you see I understand you wanting to have something to remind you of your home."

"Then why were you giggling just now." Clark demanded.

"It just seemed strange to think of you as scared." Diana said apologetically.

"Of course I get scared, Diana" Clark said, rolling his eyes. "I'm still just a regular guy. Still the Clark I was last year."

"I will bear that in mind from now on." Diana said sweetly, still grinning. They saw Bruce making his way back from the counter and waited till he joined them.

"Did you know about his glasses, Bruce?" Diana demanded as they came out of the cafeteria. "Do you know why he doesn't wear them anymore?"

"The fact that he never needed them, but kept them as a reminder of his home?" Bruce said. "Yeah I knew."

"How?" Clark asked, surprised.

"They were flat lenses, not concave or convex or cylindrical." Bruce shrugged. "Obviously your eyes were fine. You also told me they weren't new but had once belonged to your father. It was obvious you kept them as keepsakes."

Clark stared at him for a few seconds. "That's the kind of stuff you spend your time brooding about?" He asked.

"Yeah, why?" Bruce asked.

Clark patted his arm sympathetically. "And I thought you were messed up enough as it is..."

A few days later came a Sunday, and a full day holiday. Since it was the beginning of the new term, there were no assignments or term papers yet. It was a beautiful morning full of sunshine and a lovely breeze. The seven friends decided to have a picnic in the campus park.

They were sitting together in the grounds where they were joined by Cat and Lois, with Mace in tow. Cat's eyes gleamed as they roamed over Clark, Bruce and Arthur.

"Mind if we join you guys?" She asked brightly, taking a seat on the ground right next to Clark.

"Not at all, Cat." Clark said with a smile, moving aside courteously to make room for her. Somehow he ended up with John between himself and her.

Lois sat down as well. Mace remained standing awkwardly, unsure of what to do in the group full of strangers. Lois looked nervous, but also excited.

"Hi Clark." She said. She was looking at him with new respect, as though seeing him for the first time.

"Hi Lois." Clark replied, his voice friendly and casual. "Sorry I haven't been to the newsroom yet, I was a little busy. Did you have a good summer?" Bruce gave a nod of approval and gave him a small thumbs up sign.

"Can't complain." Lois said. She grinned. "Quite a personality change, Smallville. I almost didn't recognise you before."

Clark gave a good natured smile. "Just started exercising again. That's pretty much the only difference."

He looked up at Mace hovering awkwardly behind Cat, who appeared to have forgotten him.

"Hi, I'm Clark." He said, extending his hand with a friendly grin.

"Mace" Said the diffident youth, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You too" Clark replied. He introduced the rest of the group to each other. Cat's greeting to Bruce and Arthur was warmer than was strictly necessary, but she made up for it by being extra cool towards Diana.

"So, Clark." Cat said, twisting a lock of blonde hair between her fingertips. "I noticed you don't wear your glasses now."

"Yeah, I don't need them anymore." Clark said with a shrug.

"Well, that's really great. Now people can see that beautiful shade of blue of your eyes." She said, leaning in as close as having John between them would permit. "They always used to be hidden behind those ugly glasses before."

"Thanks, Cat." Clark replied, adding with a self deprecating smile, "But I think people have better things to do than stand around gaping at my eyes."

"Besides, those glasses sure seem to suit Mace." Wally said gravely. Mace looked at him hard, unsure of whether he was making fun of him or not. But Wally's face was blank.

Mace was wearing glasses similar to the ones Clark had worn last year. Clark knew Mace looked a lot like he had done last year, and Bruce had compared Mace's attitude towards Cat to Clark's behaviour towards Lois once. It was not a flattering thought. He caught Bruce's eye, who was watching him with a smirk, as though he knew what Clark was thinking. Clark grimaced at him.

"Cat, I took the supplies you wanted from the art room and put them in your room like you told me." Mace said, sounding like an obedient schoolboy reciting his lessons. "Here's the spare key you gave me."

"You keep it." Cat said sweetly. Mace almost dropped the key in his excitement. He didn't know she was going to change her room in a week's time anyway. "I know I can trust you."

Wally was watching Mace with interest. "You're in art class right? My friend Kyle Rayner's there too." he said.

"Er, yeah. I've met him." Mace said, pushing his glasses up with a hand as he focussed his attention on Wally. "I've seen you run, you know. You're really good."

"Yeah, thanks, I'm all right" Wally said modestly. "Kyle said you guys were doing portraits now. You've found a model yet? I think Diana would make a pretty good model." he added with a grin at her.

Diana frowned at him. "No thank you." she said primly. "It would be very boring to sit still for so long and do nothing."

"No, no, that's okay. We're trying pictures for now." Mace hastened to reassure her. "We're doing a portrait of Aishwarya Rai."

"The indian actress?" Arthur asked with interest. "I've heard about her. People say she's the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Yeah, she's pretty famous." Mace said, forgetting his diffidence in his enthusiasm. "Diana looks just like her. She's really beautiful and always looks really great in the movies, especially in this Indian film I saw called Josh. It was about this war between two gangs. It reminded me of a fight I saw once when I was a kid. This gang had got hold of a guy from another gang. So they chained him up and beat him till his skull caved in with-"

The others were surprised by the abrupt change in the narration. Mace saw their looks and blushed.

"Sorry" he said, fumbling in his pocket for a handkerchief to wipe his forehead, which had become sweaty under their concentrated gaze. "It just had an interesting storyline and stuff..."

"It does sound like an interesting story." Wally said, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. "Um, have you ever been in a fight like that?"

"No way" Mace said hastily. "I just thought it was interesting, you know? How they all started fighting with this guy just because he was from another gang and all. They weren't using their heads at all."

"It's always much more interesting if someone else is in the fight." Arthur commented. "Not quite the same thing if you are the one in danger. Have you ever been in a similar situation?"

Mace frowned. "Well, no. I never said I was-"

"Then it is a moot point." Arthur said dismissively. "Only people who have been in a fight can understand how difficult it is to keep your head and think clearly."

"Wait, so you're saying I'm a coward?" Mace said, his voice growing angry.

"Of course he's not saying that." Wally said hastily, interceding before Arthur could respond. "He just means you don't seem like the type of guy who gets into those types of situations."

"I can handle myself in any situation." Mace declared heatedly. He did not enjoy being made out to be some kind of cowardly nerd, especially in front of Cat, who was watching the conversation with interest.

Wally blinked. He had been trying to help the poor guy out. But if he was going to snap at him... "Fine" He said coolly. "How about giving us a demonstration?"

"A demonstration?" Mace paused. But Cat was still watching him. "What do you want me to do?"

Wally looked around. Nearby was a staircase to a lower section of the park. He pointed towards it. "How about jumping down from there?" he said pleasantly.

Mace looked at the stairs. They were a long way down.

"Unless, of course, you're scared..." Arthur said softly.

Mace flushed. He got up, his hands balled convulsively into fists. He walked over to the edge of the stairs and looked down at the eight feet drop. His face had a look of resolution as he stood there. But slowly the resolve faded. He turned pale as he stared at the long drop. Sweat formed on his forehead as he tried to gather his courage again. But it was no use. He walked back unsteadily to the group and collapsed on the ground, his body slumped. The others felt sorry for him and even Arthur and Wally looked slightly ashamed of themselves.

"That was a great try." Cat said with a sweet smile, patting his arm soothingly. Mace brightened at these words.

"I was going to do it, you know." He said almost pleadingly. "But it's so far away. You know you can sprain you ankle and stuff, jumping off stuff like that, you know, without any safety stuff underneath and all, you know?" he finished rather incoherently.

"Yes, it looks really dangerous." Cat continued sympathetically.

The others followed her lead, comforting Mace with words and gestures. Wally was especially bracing and added that he himself would have been scared to try it too.

Mace looked happy again under all the sympathy. Clark leaned in and muttered to Bruce "I wasn't like _that_ before, was I?"

"Of course not" Bruce whispered back. "You were a much bigger dork"

"Thanks Bruce"

"Anytime, Clark"

After that little interlude, the rest of the conversation at the picnic was led mainly by Cat. Lois was pleased to see that, even though Clark was friendly and polite, he firmly resisted any attempts by Cat to turn the conversation towards romantic channels. Wally was amused by Cat's quite unashamed flirting and joined in enthusiastically in the conversation, while Cat found Arthur much more responsive to her coy looks and banter than Clark or Bruce. John sat quietly in his place, his eyes trained on his food.

He appeared disinterested in the entire proceedings, but was in fact paying close attention to the interactions in the group, to the subtle undercurrents that were always present in a conversation.

He glanced at Diana, who was looking disapproving of Cat's blatant flirting, to Lois, who was also frowning at Cat, to the all conquering Miss Grant, who was carrying on an animated conversation with Wally and Arthur, to Bruce, sitting quite and impassive in a corner next to Clark, to Mace, who was hanging onto to Cat's every word, his mouth slightly open, his protruding eyes gaping fish-like at her. John resisted the urge to laugh. Finally he glanced at Clark, who was resolutely digging into his fourth sandwich and showed no signs of stopping. It warmed John's heart to see Clark healthy and robust, after watching him grow steadily weaker last year. Of all those present at the picnic, John was the one who knew the most about personal loss. The thought of losing one the few friends he had now had terrified him. There had also been a part of him that had been afraid that the sudden change in his health and his increased popularity because of it, specially among the female students, might have changed him. But he needn't have worried. He was still the same old Clark Kent who had stood up for him against Luthor. He saw Clark watching Cat with an amused smile, then glance towards Lois, who was watching him as well.

"_I suppose it was only a matter of time_." John mused. "_Cross connections, misunderstandings, misinterpretations. And always that elusive hint of romance_." he glanced at Bruce, Diana and Clark again. His friends. "_I wonder how long it will be now_."

A few days later Clark was walking alone through the campus on his way to classes. He was examining a device Bruce had brought back from home and given to him for the day. Bruce was fond of collecting gadgets from every field of applied sciences that contained any new or different type of technology. He had brought a few of these items with him to college, some of which were not even available on the market yet, to study them more closely.

"Hey Smallville." Clark heard a female voice call out. Lois was coming towards him, her bag slung over one shoulder.

"Hey Lois." Clark smiled. "No classes yet?"

"Just waiting for Cat." Lois said. They stood for a while in silence, not really sure of what to say. Clark was dimly aware that this was the first time that he had the chance to talk and it was possible that Lois would actually listen to him, yet except for some remarks about the weather he had shot his bolt.

"You know, Lex Luthor gave me a visit during the holidays." Lois ventured.

Clark frowned. "Why?"

"Trying to scare me." Lois said with a satisfied grin. 'Apparently the articles I wrote about him last year got under his skin a bit. He warned me to keep my nose out of his business. He threatened Cat the same way as well."

Clark stared at her, troubled. "Be careful, Lois." He said seriously. "Luthor can be a very dangerous guy to cross."

"I know, but it means we're getting to him." Lois said with an airy wave of her hand. "We have to take risks when we're doing something we believe in, Smallville."

"I guess that's true." Clark said reluctantly. He knew he would never be able to persuade Lois to give the matter up until she had gotten what she wanted, no matter how much danger it put her in. They relapsed once more into silence.

"So, you heard about Cat?" Lois asked finally. She wondered why it was suddenly so hard to talk to him, maybe because this was the first time that she actually cared about making a good impression on him. She had to admit they had never had any conversations other than those in the newsroom. She knew embarrassingly little about him, except that he was a farmer's son, and came from some country in Kansas called Smallville. She had never bothered to find out more before. She was finding the idea of possibly dating him not as ludicrous as before. But for that to happen first they had to have a full sized conversation, even if it had to be about the shady doings of her friend.

"Heard what?" Clark asked, glad to have something to discuss.

"She dumped Mace" Lois said, pointing towards the far left, where the cafeteria was located. Clark looked over to see Mace shuffling miserably out of the canteen. "She said he'd been getting too clingy. Poor guy took it pretty hard. He's been moping around ever since. He came back to return her key last night. He looked too dazed to even try to talk about getting back together with her."

Clark felt sorry for Mace as he saw the weak figure trail across the campus, dragging his feet. But he had to admit he wasn't surprised. Cat was not the type of girl who would take a guy like Mace seriously, and he had known it would end sooner or later. Clark hoped Mace would get over the break up, although he doubted it would be easy for him.

"I'm going to give her a piece of my mind when I see her." Lois said grimly. "Just because the guys a bit of a dork she feels like she can use him and then toss him out when she's bored. Like the poor guy doesn't have any feelings. You know I hate it when people use others like that."

She broke off with a rather confused look, remembering what Cat had said to her that day at the science fair about Clark. She blushed and glanced sideways at him. He was watching her with an amused smile, as though aware of what she was thinking. She looked away hurriedly and started scanning the crowds for Cat.

Clark meanwhile was inspecting the gadget Bruce had lent him. It was a small tube with a tiny lens attached at the end. The device was made of optic fibres and could be bent almost three sixty degrees around, making it perfect for capturing video from any angle. It could be attached to a cell phone and record videos at better resolutions than that offered by the phone's camera. Clark studied it closely, feeling the ridges along its spine running over the tube.

"Cat?" Clark heard Lois call out. There was something unexpected in her voice. She did not sound angry or rebuking, but startled. He followed her gaze.

Cat was walking towards them, her head bent, and although he couldn't see her face he knew something was wrong. She looked up at them, and he was stunned to see that she was crying bitterly, her eyes red and swollen. Her body was shaking as she wept.

"What is it Cat?" Clark asked, alarmed, as she came towards them. Cat reached them and buried her head in Clark's shoulder. Any other time Clark would have thought she was just being her usual flirtatious self, but she looked truly miserable. He had never seen her looking so scared. Lois looked shocked as well to see friend this way.

"I didn't do it" Cat was sobbing. "I swear. I don't even know how it got there."

Clark patted her back gently while she sobbed into his shoulder. He was about to speak, but just then he saw the warden enter the cafeteria and make his way to the platform. The eyes of all the students followed the warden. He cleared his voice and spoke into the microphone in a dry voice without any emotion.

"Catherine Grant of second year, media communication branch, was discovered to be in possession of an illegal firearm in the form of a loaded revolver in her dormitory room. Miss Grant is expelled immediately from the university and will remove her belongings from her hostel room as soon as possible. Students are warned that any future misdemeanour of a similar kind will result in immediate expulsion and possible incarceration. Thank you for your attention."

* * *

_**A big thanks to all the readers who've been kind enough to review. Your encouragement is much appreciated.**_

_**Oh, and yeah, I did base Diana's looks upon those of Aishwarya Rai in the story. And if you see the song "Nakhre" from her latest movie "Action Replay" that's on YouTube right now, you'll understand why.**_


	8. Trust

_**All names and characters in the story are owned by DC comics. I own nothing and am making no profit from writing this story. (Which makes my work similar to that of those non profit organisations, except in my case the no profit part is totally non voluntary.)**_

_**

* * *

**_

TRUST

It was three in the afternoon. Clark, Diana and Bruce came out of the cafeteria and headed in the direction of the parking lot. Students were allowed to keep vehicles for transport in the campus, and Bruce had taken advantage of this rule.

"How is Cat feeling?" Diana asked.

"She's really upset." Clark said quietly. "She was still crying when she left with Lois to go to her room."

"Things do look pretty bad." Bruce said. "The biggest problem is that the gun which was found was unregistered. That makes it an even bigger felony. But it's not over yet. Maybe there's still some way we can help her." He led the way to his car.

Clark was momentarily distracted by the sight of Bruce's car. "You own a Lamborghini?" he asked in an awed voice.

"Sure." Bruce grinned. "Bought it last month."

Diana gazed at the jet black car. "Is it safe to have such an expensive car in the college Bruce?" She asked as she ran her hand over the shiny hood.

"I've got two more." Bruce said with a shrug. They got into the car, the leathered upholstery sinking luxuriously under their weight. "I like the way this things handles under high speed."

He started the ignition, and the car sprang smoothly to life. They backed out of the drive and headed onto the road.

"So you two are going to Cat's dorm now?" Diana asked.

"She looked like she could use a little support." Clark said. "Besides, this whole business is really fishy. We might find out something that could help her."

"I wish I could come with you." Diana said regretfully. "But we have a test today. Will you let me know if you find out anything?"

"Sure, we'll do that." Clark nodded. "We'll see what we find today, and then we'll drop by your place in the afternoon."

"Is this it?" Bruce asked, pulling up next to a building.

"Yes, thank you, Bruce." Diana said, getting out of the car and scooping up her bag. "Good luck, both of you. I hope you can help Cat."

"Best of luck for the test, Diana." Clark said. She waved to them as she left. Bruce started the car again, taking them to Cat's hostel.

He parked the car in front of the hostel and the two went to Cat's room on the second floor. They found Cat coming out of her room just as they arrived.

"Thanks for coming, guys." Cat said. They could tell by her voice and bloodshot eyes that she had been crying again.

"No problem, Cat." Clark said. "How do you feel?"

Cat shrugged. "I've been better." she said, attempting to smile. "Still can't believe this is all really happening."

"I'm sorry." Clark said softly. "Has the warden been here again?"

Cat nodded. "He told me to pack my stuff and vacate the room."

"How many people have been to your room since they found the gun?" Bruce asked.

"Not many." Cat said, wiping her eyes. "The warden came and found the gun. He kept the door locked till the police came. They had a look around the room once, and then they took me to the dean's office and started asking me where I got the gun from, and what I'd been planning to do with it. It was so horrible."

She was crying again. Clark handed her his handkerchief.

"Are you allowed to go into the room now?" he asked quietly.

Cat nodded, dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief. "They've given me until tonight to get my stuff out of the room." she said.

"You must be tired Cat, and you're really upset." Clark said gently. "Why don't you go to one of your friend's room for a while? You'll feel worse if you stay here thinking about it."

"Yeah, all right." Cat said, still sniffling. "I'll go to Lois's room. She's following up some leads, but she said she'll be back soon. I'll go wait for her."

She left the two in the hallway in front of her room. Clark rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Lois must've gone to see what she can find out on her own about this business." He said. "She might get into trouble."

"There's nothing we can do for her right now." Bruce said. He looked at the door of Cat's room. "The police don't seem to have done a lot of investigating before charging Cat with the crime."

"It's a cut and dried case for them." Clark said. "The weapon was found in her room with her belongings. That makes it a pretty straight forward crime of possession." he looked at Bruce grimly. "Except that it can't be her, Bruce. Cat's not the type of person to do something like this. She's being framed."

"That's what I think too." Bruce said. "But what we have to find out is, who would want to do this to her?"

"Unfortunately, the list is a pretty large one." Clark said. "Cat had a habit of snooping around. She knows a lot of student's secrets that they want to keep quiet. Lois was telling me how Lex Luthor came to her house and Cat's to scare them off writing the stories about him in the newspaper."

"Luthor" Bruce said thoughtfully. "You think he might be the one who did this?"

"I would say it's more than likely." Clark said darkly. "I don't trust that guy an inch. But we can't prove anything unless we have evidence.

Bruce glanced at the door of Cat's room. "Want to see if we can find out anything in there on our own?" he asked, jerking his thumb at the room.

Clark nodded. "Let's go." he said.

"At least the room didn't have a lot of visitors to mess with any of the evidence on scene." Bruce said as they entered the room together. "We might find something useful in here."

The room was in a semi orderly state. The books were piled in a corner on the study table. The bed had not been made. It was obvious from the decorations that a girl lived there. There were various drawings and paintings that Cat had apparently made herself, and posters of two boy bands. It was a bright and cheerful room, but seemed to have a strangely desolate air, as though aware of the trouble that had occurred there.

At the time when the two boys were searching through Cat's room, Lois was stepping out of her car and making her way to the old abandoned auditorium in a corner of the campus, which was deserted because of the construction work going on at one end. Ever since learning about Cat, she had been obsessed with finding out who the real culprit was. She refused to believe Cat was guilty. But an illegal gun was not something that could not be procured easily. She was here for a meeting she had arranged with one of the students whom she knew were involved with some of the shadier elements of the college. She was hoping the person she was going to meet would tell her who the students were who could have smuggled an unregistered gun into the college.

Lois went towards the auditorium and stepped inside the deserted hall, feeling a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold wind. She stepped over a pile of old lumber and made her way to a dark spot behind the wooden shack. There she stood and waited for her informant.

She did not know the informant had already told about her investigations to the people it concerned in return for a fee.

Suddenly, she heard a series of rapid footsteps behind her. Before she could turn, a hand was clamped over her face, covering her nose and mouth with a cloth that smelled of some strong chemical. She tried to struggle, but her head was swimming. Her legs buckled under her, and she sank to the floor, unconscious.

The moment Bruce entered Cat's room a sea of impressions flooded his mind. His senses seemed to have sharpened, and almost unconsciously, a distant part of his brain began to notice the details of the room.

"_Muddy footprints on the floor, recent and only partially dried, spaced two feet from each other, indicating a short person. The bed hasn't been slept in. There are scratches over the keyhole in the desk drawer. The cupboard is open. Most of the contents of the desk drawer are in the cupboard. A pile of paper had been knocked to the floor. A few loose pages are still on the floor. Half of the papers in the pile were put back a little to the left, half a little to the right. The effect is very untidy. One paper left on the floor is folded into a specific pattern on the left side. Cupboard was unlocked and already open. It has the same lock as the one on the front door"._

Clark stood to one side, letting Bruce absorb the surroundings. He knew Bruce was a remarkably observant person, which coupled with his highly logical mind meant he saw a lot more into a situation than others. He waited for Bruce to finish inspecting the room.

Bruce leaned against the wall and stared around at the room. "Some points are fairly obvious." he said. "There are footprints on the floor, and judging by their freshness and the length of the distance between them, they were made by the warden when he came here today. But what's interesting is that Car wasn't here the whole of last night. That means there was already plenty of time for someone to plant the gun in the room. The paper on the floor is twisted into a pattern, something the culprit seems to have done unintentionally while trying to come to a decision about where to put the gun. The pattern is on the left side, showing that the person is more comfortable with the left hand. So that makes the person left handed, not to mention someone who knew Cat well enough to know she did not use the desk drawer very often, and that would be a good place to hide the gun and not have her find out. That person was able to get away undetected and had access to illegal weapons. However, once the person was in the room, he or she then had a problem making up their mind whether to put the gun in the desk drawer or the cupboard, finally deciding on the cupboard."

Clark nodded. "Good work. This information gives us something to work with, and narrows the down the list of suspects a bit. We should-."

He stopped talking as his phone rang. Clark took it out and saw that it was Cat. He switched it on.

"Yeah, Cat?" Clark said. "Is everything okay?" he fell silent, and Bruce heard Cat's voice on the other side, sounding anxious.

Clark closed the phone. There was a look of foreboding on his face. "That was Cat." he said. "Lois still hasn't come to her room. Nor is she answering her cell. And they can't find her car either."

The two looked at each other in silence for a moment.

"I'll have to go and try to find her." Clark said finally. "Maybe Perry or one of the other reporters knows where she was going."

Bruce nodded. "Be careful." He said. "This is a weird mess we've gotten into. Keep your eyes open." Clark nodded as he turned towards the door.

"Wait, Clark." Bruce said. Clark turned back in the doorway. "We'll need to stay in contact. I'm going to try to get in touch with some people who might be able to help us get to whoever's behind this. I'm going to the cyber cafe. I'll need a computer with a safe IP address. If I find out anything useful, I'll let you know."

Clark nodded. "I'll keep my phone on the whole time." But Bruce shook his head.

"I don't have my phone with me right now." he said. "There are some extra features being installed in it by Lucius Fox, from Wayne tech. He'll send me the set in a few days time. We'll need some other way to communicate."

Clark stood thinking for a while. "There's a fax machine in the news office." he said.

"And there's another in the cyber cafe." Bruce nodded. "Yeah, that should work. If I find anything, I'll leave you a message."

"Okay, here's the number of the fax machine in the office." Clark said, taking a sheet of paper from Cat's study table and writing the number down on it. "If you need me let me know. Good luck." He handed the sheet to Bruce and hurried out of the room.

Slowly, Lois's mind was recalled from the depths of unconsciousness. She tried to open her eyes, but found she could not. She tried to sit up, but again, her movements were restricted. She could not even yell out. She tried to feel her surroundings with her body. As far as she could tell, she was in the back of a car. Her hands and feet were tied, her mouth was gagged and there was a blindfold over her eyes.

Her ears however, were still free, and that moment she heard a horrible sound, the breaking and tearing of metal against metal.

Lois began to struggle. She knew that sound. It was the sound the cars made when they were inside the trash master, which reduced the cars to scrap metal in minutes. She now knew that she was in the physics section of the science lab, where the trash master was located while the auditorium underwent renovations, and that in a few minutes the car she was in and all its contents were going to be crushed.

Lois struggled desperately against her bonds but they were too strong. She could not move them an inch. Her heart was hammering wildly in terror as the sound of the tearing metal grew nearer and louder. She was helpless and could only await the end.

Then a different crash occurred, as a heavy rod was slammed into the back window of the car. The glass on the window shattered, showering Lois with its fragments. Lois did not even have time to wonder what was going on before a pair of powerful arms reached in and pulled her out of the car, moments before the car was swallowed by the trash master.

* * *

It was an hour after dark, while Lois was lying unconscious in the back of the car, that Mace heard a knocking on his door and went to open it. Bruce Wayne stood outside.

"Hey, Mace." He said. "Did you get my message?"

"Yeah, come on in Bruce." Mace said, stepping to one side. Bruce entered the room. Unlike Cat's overtly feminine room, this one was simply furnished. A large closet in a corner seemed to be enough to store all of Mace's personal belongings. There were no hangings on the wall or any ornaments on the table. The study table was crammed with books on art and drama, with a copy of _The Phantom of the Opera_ on top, and a chair kept next to the desk.

Bruce was lost in his thoughts as he looked around the room. He had always been used to acting alone in any problems he was dealing with. But it seemed that at the university the problems were too complicated to handle alone. The day at the science fair had confirmed this idea. Now he was realising that fact all over again today. But the problem was he had difficulty trusting anyone to such a personal extent. And yet, that was apparently what this sort of life demanded every day.

Trust is very important when you're part of a group.

"Is Cat all right?" Mace asked anxiously as he closed the door.

"She's hanging in there." Bruce said. "This is a pretty grim mess she's gotten herself into. But I'm hoping we can help save her. I've already sent Clark a fax about what I've found out. Now we need to get a few things straight about this business."

"Okay, how do we do that?" Mace asked, sitting down on his bed. Bruce remained standing.

"We think Cat is being framed for this crime." He explained. "Unfortunately, she was out with Lois last night covering some story, and only came back at nine today. The gun was discovered an hour later. So it could've been anyone who planted the gun in her room in that period. It's likely that the culprit is left handed. Cat knew a lot of people's guilty secrets, so the list of suspects is pretty large."

Mace nodded soberly. "So how can I help?" he asked. "There can't be that many students who can get a gun into the university."

"My thoughts exactly." Bruce nodded. "That's the biggest clue we have. These illegal transactions have a certain order and method in them, just like any other business. So they're probably arranged through one particular person, who must have some sort of paperwork on the dealings, unless it's destroyed immediately upon completion of the work. It's a slim chance, but it's the best we have right now. I have an idea on how to smoke out whoever that person is. We'll need a pen and a paper."

Mace went to his desk and took out a sheet of paper students usually wrote their assignments on. He searched through his bag that was lying on the chair and located a pen. He shook it a few times and checked the nib to see if it was working.

"We'll need it to look completely natural." Bruce said thoughtfully. "The thing is we don't even know the guys name. But I'm guessing the writer's identity is written the same way in every letter, even the criminal ones. Just write _Bruce Wayne, second year, Metropolis University _first.

Mace carefully wrote the words at the top left corner of the page. "What do we write next?" He asked. "We need to make sure they don't get suspicious or find out that we're trying to trace them with the letter."

"That's okay" Bruce said quietly. "I found out what I needed to know anyway."

"What's that?" Mace asked, puzzled, bending over the paper.

Bruce strolled over to where he was standing and looked down at him. "You're left handed, Mace."

Silence filled the room. Mace stood frozen in his bent position. Bruce was still looking at him. Mace put the pen down and got up slowly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked. His voice had grown very soft, yet somehow more dangerous.

"I think the technical term is 'the game is up'." Bruce said quietly. "You're not going to frame Cat with the gun."

"Bruce, if you're implying-"

"I'm not implying anything." Bruce cut in. "_I know._ And soon the police will too."

Mace had gone deadly pale. He was starting to sweat again, but seemed too preoccupied to think of his handkerchief now. Bruce went over to the closet and stood with his back to it.

"Should I spell out what you did?" He asked. Mace made no reply. Bruce spoke again.

"Cat dumped you yesterday. This caused you to go into a rage, and the only thought in your mind was that she must be punished for what she'd done to you. That's when you decided to kill her. You came to her room last night. You had the spare key she'd given you, and the gun in your pocket. But at the last minute, you got scared. You couldn't go through with it. Then you had another idea. You hid the gun in her room where it could be easily found. Then when Cat came into the room with Lois, you pretended you'd come to return the key. The next morning you told the warden that you'd seen the gun in Cat's room, and begged him to keep your name out of the matter. They found the gun exactly as you planned and charged Cat with the crime. That was her punishment for dumping you. Does that cover everything?"

"I think it pretty much does." Mace said. His voice had changed even more now, rougher and more sunken. "Looks like you've got it all figured out. Can I ask how you found this out?"

"Followed your thought processes." Bruce said with a shrug. "From a psychological point of view your brain is a fascinating place. The fact that Mace is not your real name would be strange for someone who had nothing to hide. I had to get your school files from an old acquaintance. They were very informative. A split personality is a tricky thing to handle." Bruce glanced sideways at Mace, who was still standing frozen. "You're a long way from Gotham, Harvey Dent."

What little colour remained in Mace's face drained at Bruce's last words. His knees shook, and for a moment Bruce thought he was going to fall. But he remained standing.

Bruce had thought of Mace as just an ordinary nerd at first. It was that day at the picnic that he had noticed something strange about him. The rapid and frequent changes in his manner were extremely puzzling. The way he had transformed almost instantaneously from passive to angry indicated a strangely disturbed mental state. It was this behaviour that had drawn Bruce's attention to him. The way he had started talking about the most beautiful woman in the world and then abruptly and without the slightest pause begun to talk about the extremely violent beating of the gang member showed a disquieting split in his mind. When Wally and Arthur had dared him to jump down the stairs, he had exhibited that split in his personality again, in the way he had gone to jump, yet pulled back at the last moment because of fright. It showed the way his mind worked alternately as careful and reckless. Bruce had resolved to keep an eye on him because of the signs of bloodthirstiness he had shown while talking about the beating of the gang member, not to mention the excessive and unnatural anger he had exhibited later, when he thought he was being made to look like a fool in front of Cat.

When Bruce had been discussing the possibility of Cat being framed, his mind had jumped immediately to Mace. When he asked Cat about the last few days, and she told him about dumping Mace, his suspicions had been confirmed. When he had inspected Cat's room in the morning and seen the paper put in a hap hazarded pile on the desk, as though the unknown person was unsure as to which was the right angle to put them in, Bruce had known it was Mace's indecisive personality coming through in his actions again.

Now he stared at Mace, waiting for him to make a move. Mace remained standing frozen.

Bruce heard the door of the closet open behind him. He was aware of someone rushing at him from behind. It would have been easy to step out of the way.

The figure crashed into Bruce, sending him sprawling to the ground. A shower of kicks rained down on him, catching him in his stomach and ribcage, until a voice called out "That's enough"

The figure stepped back to join the others, and Bruce looked up to see Mace standing next to Lex Luthor and Kalibak.

Lex was staring down at him with a mixture of anger and triumph. "You think you're very clever don't you?" He growled. "Feeling heroic now?"

Bruce was staring at the three of them. "I knew Dent was too scared to do this all on his own." he remarked as he pulled himself into a sitting position on the floor with his back to the wall.

"It takes brains to form these plans, Wayne." Luthor said with a smirk. "Brains like mine. I was the one who thought of putting the gun in that girl's room. I planned it down to the last second. It would've worked too, if this freak had just followed my orders. But that's okay. We can make up for that mistake now."

Luthor reached inside his pocket and took out a knife. It was the best weapon he could lay his hands on at such short notice, but it should get the job done. This business was supposed to have been over long ago, but it had all gone wrong. And only because of Mace's unpredictability.

When Lex had been busy making connections with the people that would be of use to him in college, he had come across a student who had known Mace in Gotham. From him Lex had learned about Mace's split personality. He had stored the information in his mind for future use. Then when he heard about his break up with Cat, Lex had realised it was the perfect opportunity to get rid of two thorns in his side.

He had gotten the unregistered gun from Lobo, who had connections with every type of lowlife in Metropolis. The gun had been given to Mace, and he had been made to see how cruel and unjust Cat had been in dumping him, and that death was the only punishment she deserved. When Mace had gone to Cat's room, Lex had also told a junior to tell Lois that Cat had called her. Mace would have had time to kill Cat, and time for Lois to come to the room. Mace would have been forced to kill her as well. When the crime would have been discovered, it would be Mace that the police would catch. Once they had his record examined, they would have found out about his mental illness. And who would have believed his story of having Lex as his accomplice when he was clearly crazy, and Lex had been nowhere near the scene of the crime, and had alibis to prove it?

But then Mace had screwed everything up. The rage that had been driving the violent side of his personality, blocking out every thought from his mind except that of revenge, had been replaced by the weak side. At the last moment he had gotten cold feet, and made a new plan. Even then the gun in the room frame up was a pretty good idea. At least it would have taken Cat Grant out of his Lex's way. The frame up had worked, but then Bruce and Clark had gotten mixed up in the whole thing, and Lex had known there would be trouble. He would have to become directly involved. When Mace had told him that Bruce wanted to see him alone in his room, Lex had decided to be on hand just in case something went wrong.

Now Lex stared down at Bruce, while Kalibak panted next to him. He had had the satisfaction of kicking Bruce several times in the ribs and had gotten payback for the time that Bruce had beaten him in the cafeteria. Even now he was itching to have another turn.

Lex bent and searched roughly through Bruce's jacket. He took out a folded piece of paper. It had Bruce's writing on it. It was a short message.

Clark,

Make sure to gather as many Manchester books related to the main subject as possible from the Archetypal college library. obviously, we'll need all the Chlamydomonous help we can get to survive this Exorbitant term.

Bruce

Lex stared at the letter, his eyes growing hard. He gave another kick to Bruce's fallen form.

"So you knew it was me, big deal." He spat. "This was supposed to be a secret message? A child of eight could've broken it. And you brought it here with you. You've given this to Kent? Great, now he'll waste his time in my hostel on the other side of the campus, and we'll be in here finishing our work. You're not as clever as you think you are, Wayne. You really think you'll get out of this room alive now?"

"We need to get away." Mace said in a whisper, his face sweaty again. "It's not safe here anymore."

"Shut up, Dent." Luthor snapped at him. "You're the one who screwed the plan up in the first place. We're doing this my way now." he stared down. "Any last words Bruce?"

Bruce was saying something in a low voice. Luthor leaned in to hear.

"Trust " Bruce whispered. "Is very important."

Lex stared at him in confusion, and a sudden suspicion sprang in his mind. He checked the message again, his eyes scanning the page rapidly. A look of comprehension dawned on his face. He swung around on the other two.

"Lock the door" he roared. "Lock the door now"

Kalibak was startled by the panic he heard in Lex's voice. He rushed towards the door to lock it. But it was too late.

The door was thrown open with an explosive force by someone on the other side. Kalibak rushed at the intruder, but was sent flying back with a punch. The next moment Clark Kent had entered the room.

Three boys rushed at him together, and the next few seconds were a whirlwind of punches and throws. Mace was thrown back first, his body flying headfirst into a wall. Lex followed soon afterwards, the knife he had been carrying not of very great use in such intense physical fighting at close range. Kalibak remained in the fight for seven seconds more, but a final straight left to the jawbone rattled every bone in his head. He staggered back and slumped to the ground. Clark stood alone surveying the room.

It was at that moment that Bruce truly understood for the first time how much Clark had changed, and how little Bruce really knew about him. No trace remained of the boy he had known for two years. The warm and friendly light usually present in Clark's eyes had disappeared, replaced by a look of cold fury that was frightening to behold. The lips that were always to ready smile were pressed into a thin grim line. Waves of power seemed to roll off the broad shoulders. The strong hands were clenched tightly into fists, the muscles in his arms taut and defined. The tall figure seemed to dominate the room, and the fallen forms of the three shrank back against the wall under his gaze.

Clark looked over at Bruce, and the look of fury died from his face, to be replaced by concern. He walked over to Bruce and bent over him.

"You okay?" He asked quietly, checking his body for injuries.

Bruce nodded. "Nothing serious. I'll live." Clark stood up and offered him his hand. For a second Bruce hesitated, but then he took the hand and slowly got to his feet.

"We've got what we needed." Bruce said. "They've confessed. Now we need to get to the police."

"I've taken care of it." Clark said. "I managed to get a message sent to them before coming here. They should be here any minute now."

Just then, the door opened and a man in a police uniform entered the room. He had grizzled hair and a squat body, with eyes that seemed slightly strained but alert.

"I heard a pretty awful racket coming from this room." He said pleasantly as he entered. "Thought I'd look in to see what the noise was about."

"Are you here for the gun possession case, officer?" Clark asked.

"That right, son. Dan Turpin, Metropolis police department." He said, showing them his badge. "I've got your Dean with me." he turned to the doorway. Two other policemen entered, followed by the dean of the college.

Mr. Dak Syde entered the room. He was a very tall man, taller even than Clark. His skin was rough and hardened, and looked as though it was made of stone. A cunning brain was housed behind the massive forehead. His huge frame gave people the mistaken idea of bulk, but it was in fact all muscle. He was a physically imposing man. However, it was the eyes that got people's attention, and once you looked into his eyes you forgot the rest of the body. They were cruel and pitiless, like twin black holes, devoid of any feelings or warmth. Those eyes were what those who met him remembered afterwards.

He entered the room now, his dark eye sweeping over the area. He stared at the people in the room, his eyes lingering on Kalibak, who looked terrified. Then he looked at Officer Turpin.

"What's seems to be the problem here, Officer?" he asked. He had a deep voice that was as smooth as it was cold.

Officer Turpin gestured towards one of his men. "Steve came to me a few minutes ago saying that he had received word from a student that a crime was taking place in this room, and that we needed to come here immediately. It might have been a prank but what with finding the gun just today in one of your other student's room, I thought I'd better come and make sure. And I told Mark to fetch you here too. Looks like we have another crime on our hands."

"I sent the message." Clark spoke up. "We needed your help, officer. I gave the junior the message to get you here."

"You did?" Turpin said, looking at him keenly. "Well, I'm here now, son. What did you want to tell me?"

"You found a gun in Catherine Grant's room today and charged her with illegal possession." Bruce said. "But Cat is innocent. These three are the real culprits." he gestured towards Mace, Kalibak and lobo.

Dak Syde looked at Bruce. There was a menacing look in his eyes "I would be careful if I were you." he said coldly. "Do not make wild and unsupported accusations at your fellow students, or believe me, expulsion will be the least of your worries."

Officer Turpin was scratching his chin dubiously. "That's a pretty big thing to accuse someone of, son." he said to Bruce. He looked at the three. "You boys want to say something for yourself?"

"We don't know what he's talking about, officer." Luthor said smoothly. "We were sitting here in our friend Mace's room when these two came and started assaulting us without any explanation. You can see how brutally Clark Kent has beaten my friend." he gestured towards Kalibak, who had a large bruise on his jaw. "We could not even call out for help because they overwhelmed us. It's a good thing you came when you did."

Turpin looked at Clark and Bruce. "Their story seems to put a different complexion on things." he said. "Anything you boys want say about these accusations?"

"That they are complete and total lies." Clark said calmly. "I only hit them in self defence, and to save my friend Bruce, who was being savagely beaten by them."

"That's your story, Kent." Lex hissed. "Looks like it's your word against ours."

"But that's just what it's not." Clark said with a smile. "We also happen to have proof."

Luthor's eyes bulged. He stared in horror as Bruce reached inside the lining of his jacket and pulled out a video camera, which had a tube with a tiny lens at the end attached to it.

"Optical fibre tubing." Bruce explained, running his hand over the tube. "It's a Pinhole camera with ten mega pixel resolution. Near three sixty degree bending capability. Pretty good audio recording too." he selected a recording, put the video in full screen mode and turned the volume up to maximum. He raised the camera up so that everyone could see the screen.

The image showed Bruce's face for a second as he turned on the video recording. The screen shook briefly as the phone was concealed in his jacket. The view in front of him was still clearly visible as he knocked on the door of Mace's room.

The rest of the video showed the events that took place inside the room. Luthor, Kalibak and Mace stared in horror as the video showed Mace admitting to the frame up, Lex and Kalibak throwing Bruce to the ground and then kicking him viciously, Luthor declaring his crime in front of Bruce, and then Clark's arrival. The video continued till the appearance of the officers. Bruce turned off the video.

"That was the important part." he said quietly.

Dak Syde was breathing heavily, his eyes narrowed. He did not say anything as Bruce put the mobile back in his pocket.

"It seems that you two were telling the truth." He said finally in a soft voice, the anger apparent in every syllable. "In the light of this newfound evidence it is obvious that Miss Grant was framed by these three. They have been proven to be criminals. You will want to take them with you to the police station, officer."

"Father" Kalibak whispered in a trembling voice. He inched slowly towards the dean, his eyes full of fear. He was practically grovelling. "Father, please. I... I'm sorry..."

In a sudden, swift motion, Dak Syde slapped Kalibak hard across his face, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"You are not my son" Dak Syde roared. "You are nothing to me. I have no son."

He looked at Officer Turpin. "You can take them away, officer." he said coldly. "And I hope they will be dealt with severely."

At a sign from Turpin, the other two officers took out there handcuffs and moved towards the three. Kalibak continued calling out to his father. Mace was looking as though he had gone into shock. Luthor said nothing as they handcuffed him. He was staring at Clark and Bruce, who stared back. As he was led out of the room, he shot a look of pure hatred at Dak Syde. Finally there was only the dean, Officer Turpin and Clark and Bruce left in the room.

"We'll need that video and you two as witnesses for the court hearing." Turpin said to Bruce and Clark. They nodded. "That was some good work you boys did here. You've got a pretty useful right hook." he added to Clark.

"Thanks" Clark said with a smile.

"Well, I'll see you in your office, Mr. Syde." Turpin said to the dean. "We'll need to do the paperwork for this case all over again."

"You can wait in my office after you have left those three at the station, officer." Dak Syde said. "I shall join you there shortly."

The officer nodded and left. Clark and Bruce were left alone in the room with the dean.

Dak Syde looked at the two boys. "It seems you two have saved the university from making a grave error." He said softly. The two boys returned his gaze.

"Cat's our friend, sir." Clark said. "We had to help her when we knew she was innocent."

"Then Miss Grant is fortunate to have two friends such as you." Dak Syde said. "You put yourself in grave risk in order to help her." the way he said it, it was clear the statement was not a compliment.

Those merciless eyes bored into Clark and Bruce, and suddenly they knew. Dak Syde was not happy with how the events have turned out. The disclosure of the events in that room would bring public embarrassment upon the dean because of his son, and upon the college for levelling false accusations against a student. All because of Bruce and Clark. In that moment, the two knew they had made a new enemy.

The two met Dak Syde's gaze steadily. "Life's fun with a little danger now and then." Bruce remarked. "Especially if you're doing it to help someone." He was not feeling particularly worried. He didn't care whether this man liked him or not.

"Indeed" Dak Syde said quietly. "But you should both be careful. In these types of situations people have a strange tendency to... _slip_." the last word was spoken as a hiss. "And the fall can be very painful indeed."

Clark rubbed his reddened knuckles. "You don't think of those things when your friends are in danger." he remarked quietly. "It's really a question of how far you are willing to go to save those you love." He did not turn away from Dak Syde's gaze. Although there was something about the man that made Clark's skin crawl.

Dak Syde gazed at the two, sizing them up. "Then it seems you two have already decided where your loyalties lie." he said softly. "Perhaps we shall meet again, although I hope not in such dangerous circumstances again." his tone clearly showed that that was exactly what he did hope for. "I wish you both a good night."

He turned on his heel and left, leaving a silence in the room for a few moments. Bruce looked at Clark. "Number one rule of making college life more fun- Make the dean your personal enemy."

"Beat up his son and then show him the recording." Clark agreed. "I don't think he's going to let that go anytime soon."

"Yeah, I don't either." Bruce said. He smirked. "And we've still got three years to go in this place."

"But at least Cat is safe now." Clark said. "Let's go tell her the news."

The two came out of Mace's room and made their way down to the parking lot, where Bruce's car was kept.

Clark's phone rang. He picked it up. "Hey Diana." he said. "Yeah, I know it's late and we said we'd come by to fill you in. I'm sorry. We just got a little side tracked. We're outside Boys Hostel Two right now. You're near here too? Great, come by the parking lot and we'll meet you there."

He switched off the mobile and turned to Bruce. "Diana's coming." He said. "You sure you're not hurt?"

"Positive." Bruce said.

They found Diana waiting outside the parking lot. It was night time, and the lot was deserted. They went over to her, and Diana stared in surprise at their dishevelled appearance. "What on Earth have you both been doing?" She asked.

"Long story." Clark said with a sigh. "We'll tell you about it in the car." They walked together towards Bruce's car. Clark glanced at Bruce's jacket, which had become extremely dirty and dusty from the kicking he had received.

"So you didn't try to defend yourself at all when they were kicking you?" He asked.

"I was using my arms to protect the camera." Bruce explained. "Otherwise it would've broken from all the kicks Kalibak gave me. But at least we got th-"

A sharp sound rang out from the darkness. Bruce stopped talking abruptly, clutching his shoulder. He collapsed on the ground.

"Bruce" Clark and Diana shouted, rushing to his side. They bent over him and stared in horror at the bullet lodged neatly in his shoulder, the blood beginning to seep out slowly.

Clark looked around in the darkness. It was impossible to tell where the shot had come from. "We're in danger here Diana." Clark said. "We need to get him to a hospital. Help me get him into the car."

Clark bent and put his hands around Bruce. He lifted him off the ground, feeling his head loll to one side sickeningly. Diana ran to open the door of the car. Clark placed Bruce inside the car and went to the driver's seat.

"Get me the keys from his jacket, Diana." Clark called out. Diana searched through the pockets until she found the keys. She tossed them to Clark.

"Open the dashboard" She said.

Clark obeyed. He opened the lock with the keys. "What for?"He asked.

Diana rummaged in the tiny compartment. "He's losing blood, Clark. He'll die if he doesn't get some treatment. I may be able to stop the bleeding if I can get some bandages. Someone as paranoid as Bruce is sure to have some type of medical supplies- yes! Here it is."

She took the box of first aid kit and set to work on Bruce's shoulder. Clark started the car, half expecting more gunshots, but the night remained silent. He drove the car as smoothly as he could so as to do minimum damage to Bruce's wound.

Diana removed Bruce's jacket and tore off his shirt. The blood was flowing freely now, and had drenched the shirt. Diana ignored the blood and focussed on the wound. She had found forceps and an antibiotic in the bag as well. A distant part of her mind wondered if Bruce had actually prepared for the possibility of getting shot at someday. Carefully, she took the bullet out, thankful that the smooth running of the Lamborghini protected them from any unexpected bumps during the ride. The bullet had missed the bone but was buried in a mass of nerves. She applied the cotton to the wound and wrapped the bandage over it, taking care not to let any air into the wound. She checked his breathing, since there was a possibility that the blood loss had resulted in a collapsed lung. But he was breathing steadily. There was nothing else she could do. Bruce was still unconscious. She made sure he was in a comfortable position. Then she went to sit in the front next to Clark.

"How is he?" Clark asked without taking his eyes off the road.

"I think he'll be all right." Diana said. "The bullet missed any vital spots and the bleeding has stopped." She looked at him. "What was this all about, Clark?"

She sounded bewildered. Clark couldn't blame her. He told her everything that had happened that day, to the investigation they'd done, to Bruce's suspicions, to what had happened in Mace's room. Diana was amazed to hear about the new side to Mace's character.

"Is Lois all right?" She asked.

"Yeah, I got to her in time." Clark said. "Lobo thought she would be killed without him having to dirty his hands. But I guessed that that was where he would take her when he took her car as well. There was only one place on campus where you could dispose of a car as well as a body."

"So you knew Mace and Luthor were the ones responsible?" Diana asked. "How did Bruce let you know?"

Clark took out a piece of paper and handed it to Diana. It was a fax of the message Bruce had written. Diana studied it in silence.

"It's in code." Clark offered.

"I can see that..." Diana said slowly.

Clark looked at her. Despite the gravity of the situation, he couldn't help a small smile from appearing on his face. "You don't think it's particularly clever?" he asked.

Diana looked at him apologetically. "Well, no. not really." She said. "And how did it tell you about Mace? I can only see the underlined words spelling _Luthor is the one..."_

"Take another look." Clark said, his eyes back on the road. "Ignore the underlined words. Notice anything strange about the message?"

Diana studied the message intently. "The only thing I see odd is that there are four words here that seem to be completely irrelevant."

Clark nodded. "Manchester, Archetypal, Chlamydomonous, and Exorbitant" he said. "Four words, all completely unrelated to each other and the message, and all with capital first letters. Take the first letter from each word in the order they're written and you get..."

"MACE" Diana said slowly. She nodded, impressed. "That is very clever."

"Just a little misdirection to hide the true meaning of the message." Clark said. "The problem was that we had no actual evidence that could save Cat or convict Mace. We needed to get him to confess. Bruce gambled on using his split personality situation to get him to admit the truth, and get Luthor out in the open. We needed evidence that could prove beyond doubt that it was them. So Bruce sent a message to Mace telling him he was coming to talk to him, giving him enough time to tell Luthor about it and for Luthor to come to the room. But I had to save Lois before she was killed, and because of that I was almost too late to get to Bruce. We managed to get the situation under control till Officer Turpin came. I thought we were safe then. But now..." he trailed off, with a glance towards Bruce unconscious form.

"Who could've shot him?" Diana asked, worried. "Lex and Mace and Kalibak must be with the police right now."

"My guess is Lobo." Clark said grimly. "He was the one who'd kidnapped Lois. He would've killed her right there, if it wasn't for the construction work going on nearby. The workers might have heard the shot. He was also the one who'd gotten his hands on the gun used to frame Cat in the first place. I wondered where he was tonight when we were in Mace's room. I think Luthor kept him as a look out. When Lobo saw the police coming with the dean he must've taken off to save his own skin. Then he saw us and took the shot. I can see why he'd be angry. We've made him an accomplice in an attempted murder case."

Diana stared in silence at the road. "At least Cat is out of danger now." She said. "Although it might take her a little time to recover from this experience."

"Cat's a pretty resilient sort of person." Clark said with a smile. "I'm sure she'll bounce back from this incident and be back to her old self soon."

"I hope the same will be true for Bruce." Diana said worriedly. The smile slipped from Clark's face as he glanced back at his unconscious friend.

The rest of the trip passed in silence, the worry over Bruce casting a damper on conversation. They arrived at the hospital in less than five minutes. Clark and Diana sprang out of the car and ran towards the management area of the hospital. The head nurse was informed about Bruce's condition, and two medics arrived with a stretcher to take him to the operating theatre.

The operation lasted for half an hour. Clark and Diana waited in the hall. Finally the surgeon came out of the room.

"He'll be fine." He said in answer to their questions, removing his bonnet and running a hand through his hair. "The bullet missed any vital spot. Who was the one who gave him first aid?"

Clark gestured towards Diana. The doctor smiled at her. "Well done" he said. "If the bullet had been left in the wound it might have caused lead poisoning. And the bandage prevented excess bleeding. You probably saved his life today." he saw the relief on both their faces and continued. "He's still unconscious but he'll probably wake up soon. You can wait in his room with him if you want."

The two nodded at once. They followed Bruce as he was carried to a private room and deposited on the bed. They bent over him. He looked extremely pale and his shoulder was wrapped in a bandage, but other than that he looked fine and was breathing deeply and evenly.

"I'm going to get some coffee, you want some?" Clark asked as he stood up.

"Yes, thank you." Diana nodded. "I'll call you if he wakes up."

Clark left the room, and Diana bent over Bruce again. A part of her had been afraid that her inexperienced hands might have done more damage that good when she had given him first aid, and it was an enormous relief to know that he was going to be all right.

Bruce woke to an intense pain in his shoulder. He knew he was hurt. He kept his eyes closed, taking stock of his physical condition. The rest of his body seemed to be in working order, and only his shoulder was hurting. He slowly opened his eyes.

He half expected to see Alfred in front of him, who had nursed him through every illness and every sort of accident ever since he was a baby. But it was not the butler's bald and wrinkled face he saw. He saw a girl with the face of an angel bending over him. A curtain of hair darker than the night itself fell past her waist. A soft and rosy hand was pressed lightly to his forehead, the large gray eyes full of concern. They stared at each other. He wanted to say something to ease the worry on her face but for some reason Bruce was struck dumb. His brain didn't seem to be able to process speech.

Diana saw him open his eyes and stare at her. She smiled in relief. "Clark" she called out. "He's awake."

Clark rushed into the room holding two cups of coffee, managing not to spill a drop, to see Diana holding Bruce down.

"You need rest, Bruce. Don't try to get up" he heard her say.

Clark grinned broadly in relief and came to stand on the other side of his bed.

"Gave us quite a scare there." He said to Bruce, handing Diana her coffee.

"What's going on?" Bruce asked weakly, looking around the room. His memory was returning. He noticed the bandage on his throbbing shoulder. He looked at Clark. "What happened to me? How did I get here? Last thing I remember is walking towards the car with you."

Clark told Bruce about everything that had happened after he became unconscious. Bruce listened in silence.

"It had to be Lobo." he said finally.

"That would be my guess as well." Clark nodded. "But I really doubt we'll find him at the university now. He supplied Lex with the gun, and tried to kill Lois. I'm betting he took off tonight and plans on lying low somewhere for a while."

"Pity." Bruce said, flexing his hand slightly and feeling the pain shoot up his shoulder. "I would've liked to have had a talk with him about this little matter of shooting me."

"The important thing is that you're out of danger now." Clark said. "The doctor said your blood loss was minimal and the bullet missed any vital spot. He says it's really remarkable how slightly the bullet penetrated into your skin."

"The jacket I was wearing had a meshwork of leather and Kevlar. It's a pretty strong material." Bruce said with a shrug. "It was a prototype my company was developing for more durable clothing. I brought a sample piece here with me. It seemed likely that things would get rough in Mace's room so I thought it would be a good time to try it."

"Well, your instincts saved you from a very nasty accident today." Diana said with a smile. "You'll be as good as new in under a week."

Again Bruce found himself strangely tongue tied, and simply nodded. "Is my car all right?" He asked, although he wasn't really interested in the answer. But it gave him some time to think.

"Oh yeah, it's totally fine." Clark reassured him. "I have to say, that is one nice car to drive. Although you might want to replace the back seat covers. There were some pretty interesting patterns made with your blood on them by the time we got you here."

"Good. That's good." Bruce muttered distractedly.

"I think this incident deserves a front page article in the newspaper." Clark mused. "But I'm not sure if we should let out the details about it yet, the matter's still not completely resolved. There's still the court hearing left, and we'll all need to attend that..."

Bruce nodded absentmindedly, but his mind was elsewhere. He was watching Diana as she sipped her coffee. Strange emotions were stirring within him. Feelings that he had not experienced for a long time were suddenly shooting to the surface, upsetting his orderly brain. A thought came to him that seemed to grow more attractive the longer he thought about it.

Maybe it was time to change his single status.

* * *

_**Harvey Dent is the name of Two Face from the Batman mythology. A split personality is one of the reasons given in the comics for his mental condition.**_

_**Even though Batman has often been called the World's Greatest Detective, I've rarely seen him actually do any detective work brilliant enough to live up to that title, and certainly nothing at the Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot level(Holmes, of course, being the undisputed king in that area, and Poirot not far behind). So I thought I'd try something along those lines here.**_


	9. The New Order

_**All names and characters are- oh, you know what I mean…**_

_**

* * *

**_THE NEW ORDER

"So it was Mace all the time?" Wally asked John as they strolled through the grounds.

"That is what Clark tells me." John nodded. "He is in police custody right now, along with Luthor and Kalibak. And Cat is safe. The university issued a public apology to her for leveling false accusations against her."

"Yeah, I saw the whole thing." Wally said, chuckling. "The dean looked so mad to be making an apology. I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of _that_ guy."

"Well, it was an unpleasant start to the Year, but now perhaps we will have some peace." John said. "And this seems a good way for the college to forget that unpleasantness." He gestured towards the students around them, talking and laughing with their friends.

It was a youth fest taking place on the college grounds. Stalls were erected on all sides, and the students were milling around the food courts. Wally and John were roaming the grounds, taking in the sights. They didn't know where the others were, but they had all planned to meet at the fair.

A gleaming stretch limo was driving on the road when it stopped suddenly, its engine making a screeching, ominous sound. There came sounds of the ignition key being turned repeatedly but the engine stayed dead.

The chauffer got out of the car and hurriedly went to open the back seat door.

"I'm so sorry, sir." He whispered in a voice of respectful regret. There was a note of apprehension in his voice. It was bad enough that his company, which prided itself on its efficient service, would have this happen during a job, but when the client was someone like this guy... "We were a little overtaxed these past few days. A lot of demands were made on this car. Something seems to have gone wrong with the engine."

The man got out of the car with a nod of understanding. It would have been hard to guess his age from a first glance, yet the wrinkles around his eyes told of a long life. He was a distinguished looking gentleman, with a full head of silvery gray hair. He gazed around his surroundings with eyes that were a startlingly bright, electric blue. They had stopped in front of a large gate, which bore the name of the establishment on the top.

"Metropolis University" the man read out.

"Largest university in the state, sir." The chauffer offered deferentially. "Very old and respected establishment."

"There seems to be some sort of celebration in progress." The man said, listening to the sounds of revelry coming from within the walls.

"It's a youth cultural festival, sir." The chauffer said. "It takes place every four years, and the entire city is invited to attend. It's quite entertaining, I've heard."

"How long will the car take to be fixed?" the man asked.

"Er…" the chauffer stared at the limo guiltily."Well, I believe the engine has suffered some rather serious draining. I've called a mechanic, he'll be here presently, and in the meantime…, well I'm really sorry sir, but this was the last car we had available tonight, all the rest are booked…"

"Then I might as well while away the time at this festival." The man said. "Call me when the car is ready."

The chauffer nodded in relief. He had been about to suggest they call one of the other transport companies to arrange a substitute car, but now he kept his mouth shut. It was never a good idea to hand over clients to the competition, especially if the client happened to be _this_ particular man.

"Yes, sir. Just as you say." He said. "We'll have the car running again in no time, and in the meantime, I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself in there."

"Very well, then." The man said, making his way to the entrance gate of the university

* * *

Clark and Bruce and strolled through the fair, taking in the sights. They were looking for the others.

"How's your arm now, Bruce?" Clark asked.

"Fine." Bruce said.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling well enough to attend college again." Clark said.

Bruce shrugged. "It was just a scratch."

They were walking past a group of friends taking a photo together when they saw Diana coming towards them. They waved to her and she waved back. They greeted each other and resumed their strolling together.

"How's your arm now, Bruce?" Diana asked.

"It's much better now, thank you for asking, Diana." Bruce said. "It gets a little sore sometimes, but the doctor gave some pills which help. And there wasn't any infection, thanks to the first aid you gave me. Now it's just a question of riding it out. I'm sure I'll be good as new soon"

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling well enough to attend college again." Diana said with a smile.

"Yes, well, I came here to get and education, I want to make sure I get it." Bruce said. Clark eyebrows were raised. "I can't let a small scratch slow me down, that's not how I work."

"That's the spirit, Bruce." Diana said, her smile growing bigger. "See, Clark? And you said Bruce was too pessimistic to ever see the bright side of things."

"He said what?" Bruce said with a scowl at Clark.

"Just a general observation." Clark said hastily. "Let's go find the others."

They made their way through the crowd. Bruce was deliberating over his next move. How to get rid of Clark? How to get her away from the others? How to get rid of Clark? How to find out whether Diana was interested in him? How to ask her out on a date? How to get rid of Clark?"

It seemed to Bruce as though he couldn't walk two feet in Diana's company without tripping over Clark's spit curl. It was perhaps an uncharitable way to think of his friend, but Bruce could be quite irritable when things weren't moving according to his plans. Admittedly Diana had been Clark's friend first, and he was the one who had introduced them. Plus, Bruce had tended to avoid the others at first, which meant he and Diana usually met when he was with Clark. But now Bruce wanted some alone time with Miss Prince.

They found Wally and John along with Arthur at the refreshment stalls and decided to have lunch before going to the entertainment section of the fair. Bruce took one look at the open table arrangement of the food stalls and hurriedly excused himself to go wash his hands.

He was returning from the restroom and stowing his handkerchief in his pocket, brooding on the number of germs the food stalls had, when he was bumped suddenly by someone from behind as the person hurried by.

"Hey, watch it." he snapped at the girl.

"Bite me, rich boy." the girl snapped back. She was glancing around hurriedly. When her face was turned towards him, Bruce saw that it was that girl Selina Kyle. She looked over her shoulder and swore "Oh, crap". The next moment, she had disappeared in the crowd.

A few seconds later, a burly guard had come striding up to the spot.

"You see a girl come by here?" he demanded of Bruce. "Black hair, green eyes?" he was swinging his stick menacingly. "She stole something from one of the stalls."

"No" Bruce said, taking a look at the heavy stick. "I didn't see anyone."

The guard turned around and went back into the crowd, muttering to himself. Bruce resumed his walk back to the food stalls.

He did not see the old man with the bright blue eyes watching him from a distance.

The old man stood staring after him thoughtfully, and then suddenly seemed to decide on something. He followed Bruce back to the refreshment stand, keeping a discrete distance between them. He stood watching the group of friends from afar.

* * *

It was a week later. Bruce had received his computer that Lucius fox had sent him. It was kept temporarily in the computer lab, where Diana was working on a presentation for her chemistry class. Bruce was showing Diana the extra features Lucius had installed in the computer.

He was congratulating himself on finally getting her alone and away from everyone else when he saw Clark enter the room.

"What do you want, Kent?" Bruce said irritably.

Clark raised his eyebrows. "You asked me to come, remember?" he said. "You said you wanted to show me the computer."

"Oh" Bruce said, considering. It was true. "Well, okay. This is pretty much it." He gestured towards the desktop.

"Hey, Diana." Clark said, bending towards the screen next to her. "Have you witnessed the wonders of this computer yet?"

"Bruce was just showing them to me." Diana said with a smile.

"So what's the new program you said was installed in this?" Clark asked Bruce.

"A code breaker." Bruce said. "It can take any amount of random letters and cycle through as many of their permutations and combinations as possible until the right sequence is found." he grinned. "It means I can basically find out the password of any program I want to. It was developed at first to make sense of jumbled words in programs, where the meaning Is garbled, until they thought of applying the technique to code breaking."

"So I just have to do this?" Diana asked. She typed a group of random letters on the screen and pressed enter.

Nothing happened. The two looked at Bruce.

"It needs some time to compile, okay?" Bruce said defensively. "Besides, I haven't' installed the crack code yet. This is just a demo file. Lucius will send the full version over in a few days, along with the crack file."

Clark took out a folded paper from his jacket. "Did you see this?" he asked them. He unfolded the paper to show a large pamphlet to the other two.

"What is that?" Diana asked.

"Yeah, I saw the project." Bruce said with a contemptuous glance at the paper. "I can't believe they actually expect us to fall for it."

"It's a plan for an educational reform project they want to try." Clark explained to Diana. "They're letting us know about it already, which is not, however, as strange as the actual idea of the project."

Diana was reading the pamphlet with a frown.

"This is strange, to say the least." she commented.

"The student believed by this stage to be old enough to assume responsibilities of a larger nature, and the administration to be reinforced to a greater extent if the rules are made by the students, for the students." Bruce quoted from the pamphlet, going to sit in a chair. "They want to turn over the entire control of the college to the students."

"Never mind the fact that students won't have the time to study." Clark remarked wryly. "The parties in the campus alone would be numerous enough to discourage the most determined scholar."

"How could they even expect a plan like this to work?" Bruce wondered aloud. "It's insane in the extreme."

"They've come up with stranger reforms in the past." Diana said. "This is still tame compared to some of the older ones."

"They used to huddle over the brewing teapot in the studies in my day." The three heard a voice say. They turned to see a silver haired man enter the room slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. "But I suppose time changes traditions."

The three stood in silence. The man was coming towards them with a pleasant smile, but none of them could remember meeting him before.

"You are Clark Kent." The man said, coming to stand before them and extending his hand. Clark shook it automatically. "You must be Mr. Bruce Wayne." He shook Bruce's hand. "And of course, the lovely Miss Diana prince." He kissed the back of Diana's hand. She looked at him uncertainly. "I'm sorry, you have the advantage over me." She said. "Have we met before?"

"No, but I rather fancy we will in the future." The man said gently, looking at her intently. There was a piercing quality to his startlingly bright, electric blue eyes, as though he could see into your very soul.

"Ah, I see you have seen the reform plan." he said, spotting the pamphlet in her hand. "And what do you think of my educational reform?"

"This is your idea?" Bruce asked. He stared at the old man. "I'm sorry, but how can you expect such a ridiculous idea to work?"

"All revolutionary ideas seem ridiculous at first." the old man said serenely. "I fancy the next few days will prove the project's worth."

The three stared at him in astonishment.

"What do you mean?" Diana asked.

"I mean that in a few days, the reform will take effect in your college. Then we shall see whether it works or not."

"But that's impossible." Diana said. "A reform needs to be discussed and passed through the board of directors. The process takes months at the very least, even if it is merely an experiment. How could you make such a peculiar reform so fast?"

"where there is a will, there is a way, Miss Prince, in the absence of which there is money." the old man said with a smile. "And I assure you, I have plenty of both. The question is, how do you propose to cope with this change?"

The three stared at him, not knowing what to say to this stranger who had so abruptly sprung such bizarre news on them.

"Who are you?" Clark asked abruptly. "And why are you doing this?" the old man's smile grew wider.

"Well, I'm actually a stranger in these parts." He said, crossing the little distance left between them. "And my name…, well, that's really quite irrelevant to this conversation. But you can call me mister…" he bent towards the computer and gazed in amusement at the group of random letters Diana had typed on the screen. "Mxyzptlk, is it?"

* * *

The next day, the news of the reform had spread through the entire college. Students were stunned when the teachers informed them that they would now be in charge of the complete administration of the college.

The students were packed into the auditorium while the teacher explained the rules to them. Teachers would only stay on in the capacity of tutors. Any disciplinary, administrative or cultural decision would be decided upon solely by the students and the leaders they choose. The new guidelines were to be followed for the immediate future.

The teacher then left the hall, leaving the students buzzing amongst themselves over the abrupt and radical change.

Suddenly, a voice spoke up from one of the rows. "Why is there so much bad talk about this reform here?"

The boy who had made the comment now stood up and moved towards the front of the crowd, followed by two others. He was a very tall guy, with broad shoulders and strong muscular arms. The black hair was combed carefully back, the blue eyes cold. Clark had seen him in the campus before and knew his name was Qlak Khent, but had never talked to him.

The guy on his left was Thomas Vane, the son of a Gotham city millionaire. Bruce knew him by sight, although he had never actually met him.

The student who had gone to stand with them was Johnny Kuik. He was considered one of the best athletes the university had ever seen, and had missed out on representing the college at the athletic meet by a hair's breadth in a final race against Wally. It was well known how hard he had tried to change the decision on the race, but the judges had been firm and had given the race to Wally.

The tall boy walked up to the stage alone. He turned to face the students with a face set in determination. "My name is Qlak Khent." he spoke into the microphone. "I belong to one of the oldest and most respected families in Metropolis. My father is the chief shareholder of the first bank of metropolis." he stared at the audience impressively. "I am in my second year studying chemical engineering. I would like to talk to you about this reform business."

"This is a brilliant opportunity for us." He spoke into the microphone. "People told us college was a place where you were finally treated as adults. But when I came here I saw that the conditions were just like in school. The teacher tells us to study, and if we don't do things their way, we don't pass the course. Then where do we learn independence? Where do we learn to search for our true calling? Isn't life supposed to be about more than the safe and familiar? How many of us haven't wished at some point that we'd made a choice to the one we really made? A choice that was not about what others expected of us, _but what we expected of ourselves_?"

There was absolute silence in the room. All eyes were riveted on the tall and commanding figure on the stage.

"So you think this new project is too far fetched? That it doesn't make any sense? I say to you that it _completely makes sense._ This is a chance for us to see what we're truly made of. A chance for us to decide for ourselves what we want to make of our lives. _A chance to show the so called experienced elders that the real future is with the next_ _generation_. With _us_."

Qlak Khent paused. He was breathing heavily. He stared at the mesmerized crowd, the dark blue eyes filled with purpose.

"_That_ is the new order of the college."

The crowd was listening to his every word intently. In there mind they saw themselves, finally accepted as complete adults, in complete control of their lives.

There was a strange foreboding in Clark's mind as he listened to Khent. He had met people like him before, but none who had the personal magnetism of this guy. It was people like lee who so easily led the crowds astray with their rhetoric and mania. They were even worse when left unchallenged, leading without any opposition.

"You want to know what we're going to do. We're going to show the authorities that this project is the best educational reform of our time. We're going to show them that by the time a student reaches college, the need for teachers and other figures of authority become obsolete. Students are smart enough to know what's good for them. We are strong enough to look out for our own interests. And those who won't, will be punished. They will serve as a reminder to the rest to toe the line.

Clark was staring with unseeing eyes at the person seated in front of him, a slight frown on his face. He looked up to see Bruce looking at him intently. He thought he understood that look. The frown on his face deepened and he shook his head slightly.

But Diana was staring at him too, with that expectant expression, as were John, Wally and Arthur. He sighed, exasperated, and looked again at the stage.

Qlak Khent was still going strong.

"We need to establish order in the campus." he was saying. "And for that we need a leader. This day is a turning point in the history of education. The day when students take control over their lives. Let me tell you a story." he stood at the centre of the stage, his hands clasped behind his back, a tall and commanding figure. "My grandfather fought in two wars. He was made the captain of the advance party in the second war, even though he had a wound in his shoulder. Why? Because the army realized people like my grandfather were very rare, and incredibly useful in times of need. he always used to tell me, "_Remember boy, to beat the enemy you need guts, not just on the field, but every single moment of the operation, to lead your men with the strength that they need to overcome their doubts._" my father used to be an air force pilot, and he told me about the life and death decisions he's seen made thousands of feet off the ground, where death is only seconds away from a bad decision. So at this crucial period, we will need a leader, not one of the monitors the teachers foisted on us, but someone we chose ourselves, someone who we believe knows what is expected of him. Someone who will not be afraid to say, "Yes, we want to be treated like adults." Why is that possibility something you are all so afraid of? Why can't we embrace that sentiment? We need to show the world we are in charge, then why this fear of our own destiny?"

"Because we're not adults yet."

The words were out of Clark's mouth almost before he had realized he had said them. The heads of hundreds of students turned in his direction. His friends had a satisfied look on their faces. Clark stood up and made his way to the stage, hundreds of eyes following him.

"Destiny, decisions, paranoia, delusions of grandeur." Clark said quietly, striding towards the platform. "Massive and often quite abstract concepts, the full magnitude of which cannot be comprehended in a single day."

He reached the platform and turned to face the crowd. Qlak Khent was watching him through narrowed eyes, but he ignored him.

"I didn't come here to start my own kingdom" Clark said quietly, his eyes on the crowd. "Heck, I have trouble keeping my dorm room in order most of the time, forget the entire campus." he added wryly. A few of the students laughed. "So now we're expected to form our democracy, I think that's the basic idea? Quite a huge task for a body of students from pretty much every corner of the world, with different ideals and very different notions of how to live their lives."

"It might be too much for you, perhaps." Qlak Khent growled. "But the rest of us are not afraid of the challenge. We are willing to do what it takes to prove our point."

"Then I congratulate you." Clark said calmly, his eyes still on the crowd. "Because, personally, I wouldn't dare take the risk." he stared at the crowd and said softly. "We all have way too much to lose."

The crowd was listening intently. Clark was making the point Qlak Khent hadn't mentioned, which the students had been too caught up in his rhetoric to remember, but which was now brought back to them.

"I repeat, this is not what I signed up for when I did not come to this university, nor do I believe, did anyone else. I came to finish my education, so that I can get the skills necessary to get a good job, which is why we're all here. You think it's demeaning to still be considered students? _Of course_ we're still students. We'll always remain students, because it is in human nature to learn, no matter how old you get. We _need_ the teachers and the authorities because we need to concentrate on our studies, not on playing kingdom on campus. We _need_… to re-establish the old order. Proving that we can handle responsibility? Taking charge of our own lives? We'll have to do that anyway once we get out of this place. In here, however…., all we need to do, and all we _should_ have to do… is study. "

"So no, I don't think this is the best educational reform of our times. In fact, I think it's a pretty terrible idea. We need to get things back to the way they were, when the authorities took care of the college and left us to study in peace. This reform is only in the experimental stage, and we need to make sure it doesn't become a reality. There will come a time when the responsibility of the world will be on our shoulders, but now is not the time. For the sake of our parents, who spent so much money to send us here, for the sake of our studies and our careers, we need to step back from this reform."

Clapping from the students showed they were in full agreement with Clark. A vein was throbbing in Qlak Khent's forehead, but there was nothing he could do. The applause died down slowly.

There was silence again in the hall. Then Wally's voice popped up. "But we still need a leader until the duration of this reform." he was grinning broadly.

"The guy with the stupid spit curl looks like a pretty good choice." Bruce's voice this time.

"But he hasn't even introduced himself, I wonder who he is?" Diana shouted as well, grinning as Clark rolled his eyes.

"My name is Clark Kent. I'm a student of this university." He stood on the platform with his hands thrust into his pocket, his farm boy grin on his face. "That's pretty much all you need to know about me."

The hall erupted with redoubled cheers as the students rose to clap and shout. Bruce was smirking at the crowd's reaction. Wally leaned in to whisper to Arthur.

"Looks like we're gonna need a team to maintain order in the absence of authority. How does _league_ sound? …"

* * *

_**Mr. Mxyzptlk- A fifth dimension sorcerer with near omnipotent powers, capable of altering reality and changing the space time continuum (has been known to take away superman's powers at will, animate entire buildings, create mammoths and dinosaurs out of nothing, simply because it's fun). Also turned superman into a cat, a dog, a pig, an ape and a caricature of Mad magazine's Alfred E. Nueman (that was pretty weird…). **_

_**The Crime Syndicate- A group of metahumans from an alternate universe whose members are evil counterparts of the justice league, bent on domination of all of reality. Members include alternate universe Clark Kent, Thomas Wayne, Johnny Quick and others.**_


	10. After Effects

_**All characters and names are owned by DC comics. I own nothing and am making no profit from this story (but hey, neither is the reader, so it's not like I'm the only one...). **_

* * *

AFTER EFFECTS

There were a lot of decisions that needed to be taken in the wake of the reform, the first of whom was the appointing of a leader. The leaders assigned by the authorities were studious, orderly individuals, who were the first to decline the role of leader in the new conditions. Elections were held the next day. Clark Kent won by a landslide.

That afternoon Clark sat in the cafeteria along with Bruce, Diana, Wally, John Jones and Arthur, discussing the work that needed to be done in the wake of the reform. Since the college was under the rule of the students, the workload also fell on their shoulders.

"We'll need someone to redesign the artwork on the auditorium walls after all the renovations that have been done there." Clark said, scanning the list he had with him of jobs that needed immediate attention. "Any suggestions as to who can do it?"

"Better than a suggestion." Wally said. He raised his hand and waved towards a student. "Hey, Kyle." he called out.

The student turned and waved back to Wally. He started to walk towards the group. He was a slim person of medium build, with dark, soulful eyes and long black hair that he kept absent mindedly pushing out of his eyes.

"Guys, this is Kyle Rayner." Wally introduced him to the group when he came up to their table. "He's studying twentieth century art, and he is the best artist I've ever seen. I mean, seriously, this guy can make his paintings come alive."

"Oh come on, I'm not that good." Kyle said modestly as he shook hands with everyone. A dreamy look came in his eyes when he saw Diana. Clark invited his to sit with them and go over the designs for the artwork. Kyle took a seat next to Wally.

"There are also a lot of renovation plans and administrative details that were left unsettled by the college authorities because the reform took effect so abruptly." Clark continued. "Anyone have any ideas about how we should handle them?"

The group brooded over the problem in silence. Bruce was frowning at the table, deep in thought, but his mind was on another aspect of the reform. Kyle was making a sketch of Diana's face as unobtrusively as possible. Arthur spoke up.

"I say we let those decisions stay open for the time being." he said. "Our main aim is to get the reform repealed as soon as possible, right? We'll let the proper authorities deal with them when they return."

Clark nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, that might be the best plan for the time being." he said. "Well, that's it for now. I better get started on handing out these jobs, then." The group rose to get back to their separate works.

"John, can I have a word alone?" Clark asked. John nodded, and the two moved towards a quiet spot.

"There are certain... elements in the college who I think will try to disrupt our work." Clark said quietly. "You know the one's I'm talking about."

John nodded. "Unfortunately, there are." he agreed. "I have already identified a few of them. They are probably working for Qlak Khent, or Thomas Vane. It would be wise to keep an eye on them."

"Exactly my point." Clark said. "We're all going to be busy, and I doubt we will be able to watch their every move. I need you to keep an eye on the crowd. Find out exactly who those people are, and let me know if they're planning anything."

John nodded gravely. Clark wasn't giving him the job without good reason. He knew how finely tuned John's sense of perception was to the minds of the people around him.

Surrounded by war in his native land, John had trawled through all the books he could get his hand on in a desperate attempt to understand the madness that pitted his fellow men against one another. He had pored over Freud and Ogden and Kernberg, and Aristotle and Lao Tzu and Spinoza. He had read every book on psychology and philosophy he could find, and that, coupled with his intuitive grasp of human emotions, meant he was remarkably adept at understanding a person's state of mind, to the point where it almost seemed as though he could read the person's thoughts.

"There will probably come a time when the elements will have to be controlled, Clark." John said warningly. "By force if necessary."

"I'd prefer to keep that option as a last resort." Clark said heavily, but he knew that John was probably right. "Very well." John said. "I will try my best."

"Thanks, John." Clark said with a sigh, looking at the jobs list. "We just need to get through this crazy time and come out of it with as minimal damage as possible."

"If we have to be stuck in this situation, Clark, I'm glad it's with you in the lead." John said with a smile.

Clark grinned wryly. "That makes one of us." He said. "Good luck, John."

"To you too, Clark."

Clark returned to the table, where Wally and Arthur were still sitting.

"So Wally, you can look after the sports equipment with Arthur, right?" Clark said, consulting his clipboard.

"Yeah, we can do that." Wally nodded. "I'll take care of the track equipment, and Arthur can pretend to tend to the pool, so he can walk around with his shirt off in front of girls."

"I don't need to take my shirt off to attract girls, Wally." Arthur shot back. "When I like a girl, at least I have the guts to do something about it, Instead of mooning around after her and not saying a word."

"Are we talking about a specific girl?" Clark asked with interest.

Arthur pointed to a table where a group of girls were sitting eating together. "The one in the green dress." he said. "Wally's been following her around for days, but he still hasn't talked to her."

"It's not that simple, all right?" Wally protested. "I tried to find out something about her, but the only times I see her is in the cafeteria. I don't even know her name, or what she's studying. You can't just talk to a girl like that. What am I supposed to say, "Hi, I've been stalking you for some time now, trying to find out stuff about you, so how about a date?" that not how it works."

"Sounds like a tough problem." Clark agreed. "So Arthur, you want to get started on your assignment? And try to keep your shirt on."

"I can't promise anything." Arthur grinned as he rose from the table and left.

"I'll get started on my assignment as well." Wally said, getting to his feet and stretching. "No point wasting time."

"Good." Clark said as he rose as well. "Oh, and Wally?" Wally turned back to face Clark. Clark motioned to the girl in the green dress, who was leaving with her group. "Her name's Linda Park, she's in my media communications class. I think she knows Lois." he patted Wally's shoulder as he walked past him. "Go nuts."

Wally stood alone, a grin forming on his face. He stared at the girl's retreating back. "_Linda Park..."_

Since there was a large amount of administrative work that needed to be done on campus by the students, it was decided that there would be a fixed quota of work to be assigned to each student, which they could fulfil by doing various jobs and assignments for the college. Each student was given specific tasks to complete, so the bulk of the work was not on any one student. This gave the students time to concentrate on their studies, and not become overwhelmed with the extra work.

Clark stood with a clipboard in his hand in the school cafeteria, looking wistfully out towards the field. All his friends had been assigned some sort of work while he was stuck with overseeing the completion of the assignments, and giving new jobs to everyone. It was a very long and boring job, and he found himself more determined than ever to get the reform repealed as soon as possible and get the college back to the old rule.

"John" he called out. John Henry irons had been putting his empty tray back. He turned as he heard his name. Clark beckoned to him.

"Congrats, Mr. President." John said with a grin, coming towards him. "How's it feel to be the big man on campus?"

"I feel like Jumping for joy, right off the tallest building this place has." Clark said dryly. John laughed. "Listen John, the physics lab has several malfunctioning machines and obsolete equipment needing to be fixed or discarded. Think you can handle it?"

"Sure" John nodded. "The place will be up and running by tonight. The equipments all there already, some of the machines just need to be fine tuned a little."

Just then, Joseph Martin came up to Clark. He was a mathematics student, and had an interest in science. He preferred to stay in the background, doing his own thing, and few people knew about him, but Bruce had assured Clark he was very good in his field of study.

"You wanted to see me?" he said quietly to Clark. He had a high, cool voice. His eyes strayed to John for a second, then settled back on Clark.

"Yes, Joseph. I've been told you're good with machines. I thought, for your job quota, you can update the physics lab. Some of equipment needs to be fixed, and any replacements need to be logged."

Joseph nodded. "Yes, I could easily do that." he said.

"Great" Clark said, ticking his name off on the list. "So you and John can get started on the lab as soon as is convenient and you should have the job over with in-"

"I am sorry." Martin interrupted him. "I thought I was doing this job alone?"

"It's a very large lab." Clark explained "And there's a lot of work to be done on some of the machines. It'll be done a lot quicker if there are two of you."

"And some of the machines will need two people to take apart and reassemble." John added.

"I'm afraid I must decline." Martin said, a curious expression on his face. "I will take some other job for my quota."

"Why?" Clark asked, surprised. "This work is right up your street, and I can assure you John knows his way around machines. He is the most qualified person for this job."

"It is not a question of eligibility." Martin said stiffly, without looking at John. "I do not work with... _blacks."_

There was a pause. John stood rooted to the spot. He looked like he'd been slapped. "That's okay." he said, turning to leave. "I'm not particularly interested in working with him either."

"No, John. Wait." Clark said quickly. John kept walking.

"Then I don't think there's any point in my staying here either." Martin said. He turned and walked away as well.

"Get back here, Martin." Clark called out sharply. "I didn't say you could leave yet."

It was a command. Martin found himself turning and walking back to Clark.

"John, please." Clark called out. John stopped. Slowly, he turned around and walked back to Clark.

The two stood in front of Clark, neither one looking at the other. Clark stared at Martin for a second, then said curtly, "This is a difficult enough time as it is. Complicating it with your biased views is not going to help us."

"I'm not complicating anything-" Martin began.

"Yes, you are." Clark cut in shortly. "You've got that type of a mindset, fine. I suppose there's nothing I can say to change your views. But keep your personal prejudices out of these matters. I'm not telling you to swear eternal friendship with John, but finishing this job together professionally in a mature manner is the least you can do."

"I told you, I don't work with-"

"You'll work with him because he is the best person for this job, and your reason for not working with him is unreasonable and asinine." Clark said sharply. "I'm not asking for a favour, I'm telling you this as your president."

Martin stared at him mutinously for a moment. "Then I suppose I don't have a choice." He muttered finally.

Clark turned to John. "I can understand you're upset, John." He paused for a moment, but then continued. "But this job needs to be dealt with quickly, and there is no one I'd rather trust with this work then you. Will you do it?"

John stood considering for a second. He was extremely tempted to walk away. But finally, he nodded. "If the college needs me to, I'll do it." he said, not looking at Martin.

Clark nodded. "Okay then, might as well get started straight away. Get it over with." The two turned towards the lab and walked off together, keeping as much distance between them as possible.

Clark watched them leave and rubbed his eyes, feeling a tiredness that was anything but physical.

A short distance away, Qlak Khent was watching Clark through narrowed eyes.

* * *

That evening, Clark went into the computer room to find Bruce sitting in front of his computer, a frown on his face.

"Found out anything useful?" Clark asked, coming to stand beside him.

"Not really." Bruce said, his eyes on the screen. "Apparently this reform is a fully government approved manoeuvre and not illegal in any form. Nothing we can use to get the project repealed."

"But how is it possible for him to have done this in such a short time?" Clark said, a frown on his face. "I talked to the professors, but they don't know anything about this Mxyzptlk man either. Even my dad couldn't help because of some old educational decree that's preventing him from interfering."

"Whoever this man is, he is very, very rich." Bruce said. "Bribery at a colossal level is the only reason I can think of which would make such a drastic change possible so quickly. And unfortunately, corrupt government officials are just as much a reality in metropolis as they are in Gotham."

"So did you find out anything about him?" Clark asked.

"No" Bruce said, his scowl deepening. "I can't even track down his real name. It would be helpful if I could find any record in the administrative files, but even the legal transactions he carried out with the university have him listed as Mr. Mxyzptlk. It's as if he's playing with us, a game where he makes all the rules and we play the cards he deals out."

"That's what's annoying you the most, isn't it?" Clark asked, watching the scowl on Bruce's face. "He's taking away control from us."

"I don't like to be used like this, Clark." Bruce said, leaning back in his chair and giving a moody kick to the table. "I suppose I could always hack into the computers at the-"

Suddenly, they heard the door swing shut behind them. The two stood up immediately. They walked rapidly towards the door and hammered on it.

"Locked" Clark said, his expression hardening. His frame seemed to grow several inches taller and more forbidding as his mind prepared to deal with any possible threats.

"It's a trap." Bruce said, cursing himself for his carelessness. "They're trying to get rid of us." Bruce knew some of the students wanted them out of the way.

Clark was standing still. He could sense the change in the surroundings. "The rooms growing colder." he said quietly.

Bruce felt it too. The air was freezing.

"We need to get out of here." Clark said, his voice hard and set, his eyes darting across the room, assessing the points of weaknesses. "But we can't let the students can't know how easily they were able to trap us."

"We can get out by the air vent without drawing attention to ourselves." Bruce said, his eyes narrowing. His mind was already running down a list of possible suspects. Someone hired by Khent and Vane probably. Or was it someone else? If the temperature kept dropping, they would be frozen to death in minutes. Frostbite would be one of the many possibilities, maybe worse. Some sort of a coolant supplied to the room via an opening, perhaps? Or-"

The door opened, and Diana entered the room.

"Sorry about that, Wally thought it would be funny to lock you both in the room." She said as she came in. She shivered. "Why have you kept the AC on so high? It's freezing." She went to turn off the AC, but saw that it had broken from the kick Bruce had given to the table on top of it. "Oh well, you two need to hurry up anyway, they'll lock the room in about fifteen minutes." she said as she turned to leave.

She left the room, leaving a sheepish silence behind in her wake.

* * *

Joseph Martin and John Henry irons were working in the physics lab on a new type of experimental machine that an old student had developed for research work on electromagnetic waves. It was still kept in the lab for new students and was in working order, but the circuit board had to be replaced frequently since the large charges it supported wore it out. They had decided by unspoken agreement to work on the two parts of the machine separately. They had not spoken to each other once.

Joseph concentrated on the circuit board he was working on. Soldering was a very delicate work and needed absolute attention. He tested the rod against the work table. Blinding light flashed for a second. Satisfied, he lowered the stick to the circuit board and went to work.

The work was done soon. He took off his gloves and took the repaired board back to the machine.

He was vaguely conscious of John walking towards him, putting on the thick work gloves provided in the lab. But he was more intent on the work. The board was connected to the machine, and Martin felt a fiery throbbing shoot up his hand as his fingers were electrocuted.

There was a moment of pain, and then Martin felt himself be pulled back, away from the table. The machine was dragged along several inches until the circuit was broken, and was left at the very edge of the table. John deposited Martin on the chair placed next to the table. He sat there, his hand trembling uncontrollably.

"If you use the electric arc for welding this, you'll be fried in seconds." John said.

"What are you talking about?" Martin gasped. "I'd switched off the machine before I took out the board."

"That won't work on this machine." John said. "The professor added capacitors to the board. When you were welding it, the current was being stored in them. Then when you connected the board to the machine, the circuit was complete and the current was right at the surface where you touched It." he turned to get back to his work.

"What's wrong with it now?" Martin called out in an apprehensive voice.

John turned to see that the machine had begun to tremble violently. "Didn't you take the wire out before-." his eyes shot up. The wire connected to the switchboard had been burnt from the overload of the capacitor and was sparking against an old disused outlet board. The electric vibrator attached to the base had been activated, and the vibrations were bringing the machine off its precarious perch.

The next second, the machine had collapsed on top of Martin. He roared in pain as his leg was crushed.

John rushed to his side and tried to lift the machine, but it was too heavy. He ran his eyes over the room, and a familiar tool caught his eye. It was the same hammer he had used on the day of the science fair. He grabbed the hammer and ran back to where Martin was struggling under the machine. Using the large hammer as a lever, john pulled the handle. Slowly, the machine slid off Martin and rolled onto its side, freeing his legs.

Martin lay there panting, feeling the pain abate. "I think they're only sprained a little." He said, feeling his legs.

John was examining the machine. "Just a few wires loose. And nothing's broken except the circuit board at the top." he said. "You'll need to make a new one."

Martin nodded. "I'll need some time to rest, then I'll make it." he said, getting unsteadily to his feet.

"Whatever works for you." John said. He rose and returned to his work at the other end of the room. Martin looked at his retreating back and opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again.

The rest of the time in the lab passed in silence.

* * *

Clark and Bruce were making their way out of the hall the next day. Clark had just finished assigning the jobs to various students. Diana was helping Wally with some library books in a corner of the hall.

"We'll need to get this reform repealed as soon as possible. Students will never be able to study if they spend all their time doing jobs around the campus." Clark said to Bruce.

"Maybe we've been going around this the wrong way." Bruce said. "I'm going to the computer lab to see what I can find out about the ways to withdraw an established reform."

"Okay, I'll stop by in a while." Clark said. "Try to see what you can find out about the board of directors. It's possible some of them are against this reform as well."

"That's your idea of leadership?" the voice brought them to a halt and they turned to see Qlak Khent and Thomas Vane standing behind them.

A crowd of interested watchers had arrived and were watching the confrontation with interest.

Khent strode up to stand in front of Clark. "The college needs you to be a leader in these times, and you're trying to find a way out of your responsibility?" He demanded.

Clark knew Khent was sore about what he saw as Clark stealing the post of leader from him. He had expected Khent to try to find a way to undermine his position in front of the college.

"As I already told everyone once, this reform is a mistake and needs to be removed before it can damage the student's time in the college." Clark said. The crowd of students gathered around them were listening intently. "We need to get this decree repealed as soon as possible."

"And the only way to do it is to find an illegal means?" Thomas Vane said, appearing next to Khent. "What are you going to do, hack the computer?" he stared challengingly at Bruce.

"We'll just looking through our options right now." Bruce said in a neutral voice. "Let's hope it doesn't come down to that."

"But you will do it if it suits your needs, won't you?" Thomas pounced on Bruce's words. He stared around at the crowd of students. "So how do we know you won't hack into any of our accounts? Extract any information you please? Maybe even change our records? Do you really expect us to fall in with your decisions?" he stepped up close to Bruce, inches away from him. "Where do you get off acting liking the godfather on campus, Wayne?"

"We're not doing anything of the sort." Clark said firmly, pushing Thomas back. Immediately, Khent was standing next to Vane.

"Careful, Mr. president." Khent growled. "You might think you can get away with anything you like now that you're in control, but you'll be out as soon as the students realise how weak and spineless you are."

Khent and Vane were inches away from Bruce and Clark, their eyes full of hostility. They had both assumed a guarded stance, keyed up for a possible physical confrontation.

Clark stared at the two mildly. "Well, okay, thanks for the warning, we'll keep your words in mind." he said as he turned to leave.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardise the students, of course." Bruce said courteously, as he turned to follow Clark.

Khent snorted, watching the two walk away. "They're even more gutless then I imagined." he said, his voice ringing clearly through the hall. Clark and Bruce kept on walking.

The scene over, the crowd began to melt away. Khent turned to Vane. "You see any signs of Wayne doing something illegal, you let me know, and I'll have Kent out of his post in seconds." he said.

"Won't be very hard to get them removed." Thomas said, watching the two walk away with a contemptuous smile.

"Plus, wouldn't hurt to get some of the people on their side working for us." Khent said quietly. Thomas turned to see what he was staring at. Diana sat alone at the back of the hall, a pile of library books next to her that she was reattaching, and several tubes of transparent glue in a box at her feet.

"Come on" Khent said to Thomas. The two made their way to where she was sitting. Thomas had a class with Diana, yet all his attempts to talk to her had been firmly repulsed. Now here was a good opportunity to talk to her. Maybe even see if she was interested in joining his team instead of Kent's. Diana had been watching their interaction with Bruce and Clark. She did not acknowledge there approaching figures except a slight creasing on her forehead, and went on with her work.

Qlak took the seat next to her with a smirk. Thomas took the chair on her other side. Diana continued to work without looking at them. Finally, Qlak broke the silence.

"Now this is really a job I would have considered beneath you, Diana." Qlak said, settling himself back comfortably in his chair.

Diana said nothing, but continued with her work.

"Just another instance of Kent's poor decision making abilities." Khent continued. "I don't know why you hang around with that loser."

"We obviously have different definitions of the term loser." Diana said without looking up from her work.

Khent leaned towards her. "That's because we never really had a chance to communicate before." he said. "I'm sure once we got better acquainted, we would find many things to agree upon."

"Thanks, but I'll pass." Diana said indifferently.

"We can offer you a lot more than Kent or Wayne." Thomas said abruptly. "A partnership that is mutually beneficial. We need someone who can let us know if they're planning anything outside the rules, something we can pin them with."

"You think I'll want to become your mole?" Diana asked, her eyebrows raised.

"We simply want you to consider the proposal, Diana." Khent said smoothly. "In return, any negative records in your student files will be removed. The college treasury can be dipped into by... _privileged_ members of our team. Not to mention a more complete control over the college than Kent seems willing to aim for."

"One, I don't have any negative records. Two, I already have plenty of money, and it's never really interested me. And three, I don't want to control anyone." Diana said. "I'm afraid none of your offers so far really interest me."

"Well..." Khent said with a leery grin, leaning towards her. "There could also be a lot of fringe benefits for our special friendship."

"Don't come any closer" Diana said warningly.

Khent's grin widened as he leaned in closer. "Scared of a little intimacy?" He said.

"No, I mean literally, don't come any closer." Diana said. She held up the tube of glue. "I don't think your pants will be able to take the strain."

Khent froze. He was unable to get off the chair. He tried to get up, but his pants refused to leave the seat.

"Now you have a more immediate problem to focus on." Diana said brightly as she got up to leave. She turned to Vane. "And you might want to help him out of this little predicament." She left the two, hearing Khent's muffled curses as he tried to unglue himself from the seat.

"_And people think I'm too serious_." Diana thought complacently.

* * *

The day was drawing to a close. Classes were over. Clark stood in the auditorium checking off the students as they reported back on the tasks they had been given. Wally, Arthur, Diana and John Henry had already reported their jobs finished. Now they were going through the few remaining students.

Clark looked over the clipboard. "Joseph, is your work in the lab done?" he asked.

Joseph Martin stood up and nodded. "Yes, the lab has been updated satisfactorily." he said.

Clark ticked off his name against the list. "Good, there's the other lathe machine that needs your attention. But it's quite small. I think you can handle it on your own?"

Martin stood stock still. "I think it will be done faster if John Henry was to work with me." he said. For a second, he paused. But then he took a deep breath and added, "He knows more about machines than I do. I would be grateful for his help."

Clark nodded and looked at John. "You've already done your fair share, John." he said. "Think you have the time for one more assignment?"

John nodded. "Sure, I don't mind lending a hand." he said, his voice neutral.

"Okay, so that's settled. You two will take care of the lathe machine." he ticked the box against their assignment and moved on to the next job. Diana wondered why Clark was looking like he was trying not to smile.

The remaining students reported in, and the work was finally over. Everyone left to get back to their hostels, leaving Wally, Arthur, Clark and Diana alone in the auditorium. The four went to a corner of the room where Bruce sat brooding.

"The reform is protected legally against any attack." He said abruptly as they took their seats. "There's no help that can be expected from that quarter."

Clark nodded sombrely. "And this situation is becoming worse because of Khent and his cronies." he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "It seems the defensive strategy won't work." He stared grimly around the table at his friends. "It's time we played the offensive."

* * *

_**Yeah, been really long since an update. The only excuse I can give is that I spent the intervening time eating naan and staring blankly at a wall (I didn't say it was a great excuse). **_

_**Kyle Rayner is one of the current green lanterns in the comics, and also my favourite, mainly because his energy constructs are the most imaginative and interesting.**_

_**Joseph Martin is the Atomic Skull from Superman comics, where he is shown to be a delusional psychopath.**_


	11. Drawn Battle Lines

_**All names and characters are owned by DC comics. I own nothing and am making no profit from writing this story. There, feels good to finally get the terrible secret off my chest.**_

_**

* * *

**_

DRAWN BATTLE LINES

Bruce and John had stayed cooped up in the computer lab for two days in front of Bruce's computer. They had a special task to perform, which needed a lot of planning and preparation to execute. They were hacking into the mainframe of the University's computer network.

In the two days the college had continued as before, with the students taking over the responsibilities of the administration as best as they could. Quarrels over certain students not doing their share and protests against any new responsibilities were frequent. Several fights had broken out among the tired and distracted students, and there was also Khent working with Vane and Kuik and their friends to upset the order as much as possible. Matters were fast becoming desperate, and a solution for the existing conditions was required immediately.

On the third day, Clark was sitting in the cafeteria poring over the documents Bruce had sent him about the particulars of the reform. Wally was at the moment at a loose end and had taken the seat opposite him. Diana had just finished her classes and had come to the cafeteria in answer to Clark's call. She came to the table and took the seat next to Clark.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked him.

"I think so." Clark replied thoughtfully. "There are a total of eight people on the board who passed the reform. It's almost completely certain they were all bribed by Mr. Mxyzptlk. So appealing to them won't help. But there is this one guy." He took out a list of names of the people affiliated to the University and pointed towards one of them. "Mr. Howard Rinkle. He's the man who acts as the supervising director of the university, and is also connected with several other major universities. His position is a rather strange one, and his main work is taking care of the government interactions with the universities."

"So how can he help us?" Wally asked.

"It seems he rarely votes on the actual policies of the universities, and prefers to leave the decision making to the board of directors. But he has the power to veto over any decisions the directors make. Which means he is the man who can help us get this reform repealed if we can convince him of the harm its doing."

"Smallville." A voice said, interrupting Clark. He turned to see Lois coming towards him. "Hey, Lois." He said. "Can I help you with something?"

"Perry wants an interview with the new president of the college." Lois replied, bringing out her pen and notepad. "So whenever you have the time..."

"Oh" Clark said, looking a little startled. "Well, sure. We just need to wrap this matter up and then we can do the interview. Why don't you take a seat?"

Lois sat down next to Wally and looked at Clark expectantly.

"So anyway." Clark resumed to Diana and Wally. "We need to convince this man that all the students want this reform to be removed. I know some of the idiots like Khent and Vane and Kuik want it to become permanent, but-"

"So your main aim still is to get the reform repealed?" Lois interrupted him.

"Yes, it is." Clark replied, looking at her with raised eyebrows. "I made it clear the day I stood up against Khent in the auditorium what my plan was."

"But don't you think some more concrete steps should be taken now." Lois said impatiently. "The whole college is in a mess, it needs a firm leader right now."

"Clark is doing what is necessary for the college." Diana spoke up before Clark could respond. Wally nodded vigorously in agreement. "Getting the reform repealed is the fastest way out of this situation."

"And what about the disorder among the students?" Lois challenged Diana. "That needs to be dealt with firmly. Fights are breaking out all over the place. Someone can get seriously hurt if Clark doesn't show more determination in his leadership. People are starting to think he's scared."

"There is a fine line between leadership and tyranny, a line which should not be crossed." Diana said, a hint of sharpness in her voice. "Perhaps you would prefer for Clark to suspend all the students who disagree with him? Make it a rule for all those who oppose him to be severely punished? Rule over the college with an iron fist where no students are allowed any liberty to express their views?"

"That's not what I meant-" Lois began impatiently.

"I don't mean to stick my oar in." Wally broke in apologetically, "But why do you think there haven't been any casualties even after all the fights that have broken out, Lois? I and Arthur and Clark and John were there to stop them. The only thing was Clark managed to calm things down before the students got really serious. We didn't even have to fight." Wally shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "It wasn't very exciting but we kept the peace."

"These two haven't really left much for me to say." Clark said with a smile at Wally and Diana. Then his expression became serious. "But the point is, Lois, there's really no need to resort to force right now. The situation is bad, but it's manageable for now. And we have enough time to try our best to get the reform removed, so that's what we're trying to do."

"Yeah, so let's leave these two to the war effort." Wally said, getting to his feet. He put an arm around Lois's shoulder and steered her away towards the door. "Listen Lois, I think you know a girl named Linda Park?..."

Diana looked apologetically at Clark as the two left. "I am sorry, Clark." She said. "I did not mean to snap at her like that."

"Don't worry about it. Lois can be a bit harsh when she feels strongly about something." Clark said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm pretty sure she actually respects you for standing up for me." He grinned. "It's something she thinks I don't do often enough on my own. But let's get back to the reform."

He took out a page bearing the particulars of where Mr. Howard Rinkle's office was, and his visiting hours.

"Reforms are tricky things to handle." Clark said. "Since this is a college, and not a school, it has a greater degree of autonomy, which means the reform was passed by a group of private citizens, and not the government. This action was perfectly within their rights."

"So how do we remove the reform?" Diana asked.

"The reform was passed by the entire board of directors, except Rinkle." Clark said. "We just need someone to convince him that the reform is a bad idea and should be removed."

"So how do you plan on getting through to Mr. Rinkle?"Diana asked.

"I was thinking we just tell him the facts." Clark said. "Show him how distracted the students are because of the extra workload, how detrimental the effects of this reform will be on the students in the long term scenario. Convince him that the reform is a mistake and needs to be reformed."

Diana nodded. "I suppose the direct way would be the best. So when will you go to meet him?"

"I won't be going there." Clark said, shaking his head. "I have to oversee the work on campus, and its possible Qlak and company might try to throw a spanner in the works. I think I need to be on hand in case something happens." Clark looked at Diana and added simply, "So you'll be going to talk to Mr. Rinkle."

"Me?" Diana gasped. "Don't be silly, Clark. I don't know how to talk about these matters. I won't be able to convince the man of anything."

"There's no one else who can do this, Diana." Clark said. "I really think you'll be able to handle this job the best. I've talked to my dad, he's been able to arrange a meeting with Mr. Rinkle today."

"Clark, listen to me, I don't know anything about these administrative matters." Diana argued. "You should send Bruce, or maybe John. They will have a much better chance of geting the point across."

"As the president, it's up to me to decide which student should be given which work." Clark said, starting to look hurt. "I thought you trusted my judgement, Diana..."

Diana sighed, exasperated. "I do, Clark. But this is ridiculous. I don't know what to say to make the man believe me. I'm not qualified for this job at all."

"None of us are, Diana." Clark said. "I'm still asking you to do this. Will you?"

Diana sighed, finally giving in. "Fine, just because you're asking me to." She said. "But don't expect any miracles."

"Just do your best." Clark said encouragingly, grinning. "That's all anyone can ask for."

* * *

Bruce was sitting in the auditorium, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. He'd been in front of the computer for two days and his head was beginning to ache. He had left John Henry in charge in the computer lab and had come to the auditorium to clear his head. Students were milling around in the auditorium and outside attending to their work.

Clark entered the hall and spotted Bruce. "Tired?" He asked, coming towards him.

"No, just needed a few minutes." Bruce replied, sitting up straight and rubbing his eyes. "Did you get the papers I sent you?"

"Yeah, I looked through them. Diana's gone to talk to Howard Rinkle." Clark said. "Did you find what you and John were looking for?"

Bruce nodded. "Took a while, but we got it." He gestured out the door towards the computer lab. "The security was pretty tight, and I doubt even I would have been able to get through if Lucius hadn't upgraded my computer. Some of the softwares we used aren't even supposed to exist. But anyway, we managed to get to the digital documents of the reform."

"And now all that needs to be done..." Clark said slowly.

"Is to change the documents, and stop the reform in its tracks." Bruce finished. "Simply deleting them will just complicate matters even more, but altering them will make them obsolete."

"Getting into some more illegal schemes?" A voice called out from behind them.

Clark closed him eyes in exasperation, then turned to see Qlak Khent and Thomas Vane glaring at them. "_Don't these guys have anything better to do?_" he wondered silently.

Khent was staring at Clark. "Still trying to find a way out of your responsibilities, Kent?" He asked coldly.

"Haven't we had this conversation already?" Bruce asked.

"No, what I recall is you two running away from us because you couldn't answer our questions." Thomas Vane said. Again, they had chosen a very public place for the confrontation, and many students had stopped their work to watch them.

John Jones entered the auditorium. He had come to discuss some of his work with Clark. Seeing Khent and Vane, he stopped. They both looked at him challengingly. But he simply took a seat in a chair a few feet away from them and continued to watch the argument along with all the other students.

Khent turned back to Clark. "We're telling you again, Kent, we will not allow you and your friends to act like you own the campus, and think that you can do whatever you want now that you're president."

"And I've already told you I have no intention of acting like a dictator on campus." Clark said mildly. "The steps we are taking are for the benefit of the students."

"We're accepting full responsibility for our actions." Bruce added. "You don't have to worry about us getting the rest of the students into trouble, that's the last thing we want."

"Yes well, forgive me if we don't believe you." Vane said coldly. "You are obviously not the type of person who cares about authority, or would be willing to toe the line."

"And considering that you're working with our so called leader, that begs the question of what ideals Kent holds to be true about authority." Khent growled.

"My beliefs are of no one's concerns other than mine." Clark said quietly. "But I do not believe we should accept these radical changes when they could have such destructive effects on us. So I'm working to have them removed. They pose too much of a risk."

Khent smirked. "No need to tell us you're a coward, Kent." He said.

"Yes, we already know how weak and spineless you both are." Vane added with a sneer.

"If that's your view, there's nothing we can do to change it." Bruce said with a shrug.

"That's the first sensible thing you've said yet." Khent said with a snort. "And we're going to show the rest of the students that it is the right view. They all need to see your true characters, even if we have to force them see sense."

John sat quietly in his chair, watching the confrontation. Khent and Vane were mistaking Clark and Bruce's passivity for cowardice. They did not realise the two were keeping quiet for the student's sake, so that they did not get the wrong impression. Public perception of an individual is not easy to handle.

As sad as it seemed, people found it easier to relate to Bruce than to Clark. Bruce's sarcastic nature and cynical attitude were easier to believe than Clark's optimism and hopeful approach. John knew Clark could not afford to lose his temper in front of the other students. The leader's position is a difficult one, and they are rarely allowed to drop their guard. If there had been any traces of violence in Clark's behaviour, his opposers would have been up in arms at once, calling for his dismissal. Fortunately, Clark was of a naturally even temperament, and did not get angry easily. That temper helped him keep cool instead of retaliating to Khent and Vane's taunts. But Khent did not understand that. At the most personal level, Clark presented a paradox most people refused to believe in- He was a very strong person who hated violence.

Bruce again was too logical minded to rise to their bait. He was equally aware of the importance of appearances of anyone associated with Clark in the eyes of the students. He would not pick a fight with Khent or Vane either.

And yet, was it entirely wise? John mused. This show of restraint was being misconstrued as cowardice, not just in the eyes of Khent and Vane, but also many of the students. There was a certain kind of dark glamour about Khent's aggressive methods that appealed to the baser instincts, especially in the present turbulent climate of the college. What if the students decided that they did indeed require a forceful leader? Clark would never try to hold on to his position if the people wanted him gone. And then what would happen to the college under Khent's rule?

And so John decided. Clark had asked him to keep an eye on the unruly elements, and had given him the job to take whatever steps he deemed necessary to quell those elements. Khent and Vane needed to see Clark and Bruce in a stronger light.

There are certain points in every person's psychology that are open to attack, whether it is there pettiness, there self absorption, or even their protective instincts. John was well aware of those points in the minds of the people he was close to. He decided to say the one simple line which would produce the desired effect.

"Is that why I saw you both harassing Diana two days ago?"

There was a blur of motion, and suddenly Thomas Vane found himself bent over the table, his hand twisted behind his back, unable to move. Bruce Wayne had pinned him to the chair faster than he could react, and was now holding his head pressed into the table. The other hand was holding his wrist bent at a dangerous angle.

Qlak Khent would have helped his friend, but he had his own problems. Clark had pinned his to the wall, and was holding him there struggling helplessly, with one hand wrapped around his neck in a vice like grip.

Clark stood motionless for a moment, taking deep breaths to calm himself. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but his fingers were still clamped around Khent's neck.

"What did you say, John?" Clark asked quietly.

"I saw these two forcing their company on Diana in the hall two days ago." John said.

"Were they hurting her?" Bruce growled, his grip on Vane's wrist more painful than ever.

"No, she was fine." John said. He felt satisfied that the point had been made. "Diana can take care of herself. But it does show a disturbing side of Mr. Khent and Mr. Vane's nature."

Clark released Khent's neck. Immediately, he swung a fist at Clark's face. Clark caught the fist and slammed him into the wall, holding him there by his collar. Khent wanted to continue fighting, yet there was a menace in Clark's expression that made him stop struggling.

"Let's get something straight, Khent. You seem to be under the impression that I'm afraid of you. Believe me, nothing could be further from the truth. I don't want to fight you, but that's not because I'm afraid you might be stronger than me." Clark stared directly into Khent's eyes. "It's because I'm afraid I might not be able to stop myself from breaking your jaw if I'm not careful."

"You want to fight us, you face us yourself." Bruce said to Vane, who he was still holding pressed into the table. "You do not, under any circumstances, try to use our friends to get to us."

"Consider this a warning." Clark said. "I'm already tired of what you've been doing among the students during these last few days, trying to turn them against us, and I'm starting to wonder whether it wouldn't be wiser simply to remove you. Every time I see you I find myself favouring the idea more." Clark removed his hands from Khent's collar and stepped back. "How many more days you want to spend in this college is up to you."

"And how many bones you want to keep intact during that time is also up to you." Bruce said, releasing Vane's arm and stepping back as well. "Keep that in mind the next time you feel the urge to act like idiots."

The two turned and left the hall together, leaving Khent and Vane staring after them.

* * *

Diana was led by a petite blonde secretary into a musty old office in which a large wooden table was kept, where a man sat bent over some papers. The man motioned for Diana to sit without looking up. Diana sank into the chair opposite him.

"I have an appointment in a few minutes that is of some importance, so I would appreciate it if we kept this short." The man said. "What can I do for you, Miss Prince?" He looked up.

Mr. Howard Rinkle was a dried up little man with a bald pate on the top of his head and was clad in a neat gray suit. He glanced at Diana over the top of his round glasses before bending over the documents spread over his table again.

"First of all, I would like to thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Rinkle." Diana began.

"Don't thank me, I am merely returning a favour I owe to Jonathan Kent." Mr. Rinkle said, still not looking at her. "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Have you heard about the new reform they've established in Metropolis University?" Diana asked, wondering how to get her point across.

"I am aware of it, yes." Mr. Rinkle said, finally looking up at her. "I trust it has been implemented satisfactorily?"

"Yes it has, but that is what I wanted to talk to you about." Diana said. "We, that is, the students of the university want to get the reform repealed."

For the first time, she received his full attention. He gazed at her through his glasses.

"And you think I will be the one to get it repealed." He said. Diana nodded. "Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, Miss Prince, but the reform was passed through the entire board of directors, and has their full support. I have no reason to doubt their motives or decisions. I am afraid there is nothing I can do, or want to do. Good day."

He returned to his documents. It was clearly meant to be a dismissal to Diana. She sat looking at him for a moment.

"So it is of no consequence to you that the reform is having a terrible effect on the students and their studies?" She asked.

"Students are always coming up with new reasons to not study." Mr. Rinkle said, still writing. "It is hardly a new problem. Might I suggest you take the matter up with the students instead of blaming the authority?"

"The students _are_ the authority." Diana said. "And that is playing havoc with their studies. They spend all their time over college chores, and are too tired and distracted to attend to their real purpose in coming to college."

"Every reform needs some time to become effective, Miss Prince." Mr. Rinkle said. "I was not present at the time when the reform was passed, but I can assure you the board of directors who passed the reform have the student's best interests at heart."

"In any other case, I would prefer to believe you, but in this case I have seen the effects of the reform with my own eyes and I cannot believe the intentions in this particular case were benign." Diana retorted. "Students have turned against each other, the administrative system is breaking apart, and the scholarly part of college has been pushed to the background. All because of the reform passed by individuals like Mr. Desaad and Mr. Graven, who I believe were influenced more by the dean of the college than their own beliefs."

"I trust Mr. Desaad." Mr. Rinkle said, shaking his head. "His methods are a trifle unorthodox but he is a very intelligent man. I believe his reasons for passing the reform must have been sound. And now, I'm afraid I really must ask you to excuse me."

"Mr. Rinkle, you are basing your opinion on what you have heard instead of what you have seen." Diana said earnestly. "I would not have come here if the situation at the college had not demanded it. The system the reform implemented is not working. It is counterproductive to every element of college life that students wanted when they came to the college, and you need to understand that. At least allow me to explain to you the true nature of the reform, which is not what you believe it to be. Let me show you why it is imperative that the reform be removed as soon as possible."

Mr. Rinkle stared at her dispassionately for a second, then looked at his secretary.

"Can you go and tell Mr. Adams to wait a little while longer, Jean?" he asked. His secretary nodded and left the room, closing the door softly behind her. The director leaned back in his chair and gazed at Diana. "Ten minutes, Miss Prince."

* * *

There was much cheering in the college when Diana came back that afternoon, since the news of what she had gone to do had spread through the campus, and also the result of the meeting with Mr. Rinkle had reached the student's ears. She looked slightly embarrassed with the applause but was smiling.

"See?" Clark said with a grin when he and Bruce and Wally went to meet her. "I knew you could convince that man." Khent and Vane and Johnny Kuik stood watching them from a distance.

"Yes well, it wasn't easy." Diana said, taking a letter out of her bag. "But in the end I managed to get him to sign a letter putting his veto on the reform policy."

"Excellent." Clark said, examining the document, while Bruce and Wally congratulated Diana. "Just a few loose ends left to tie up."

"The biggest being the official notice of the reform." Bruce said, taking the letter from Clark and scanning it.

"What notice?" Diana asked.

"Mr. Mxyzptlk tried to keep as little hard evidence for the reform as possible, and most of the documents pertaining to the reform are digital, which I don't think will hold any water now, after what we've done to them." Bruce said with a satisfied smirk. "But there is an official notice establishing the reform that is to be delivered to the dean of the college in a few days. If we can destroy that, the reform falls through.

"But if the notice reaches Mr. Dak Syde, the reform will become official and even Rinkle's veto won't be able to stop it." Clark added. "As far as we were able to find out it'll take a few more days for the notice to get here."

"And when it gets here, it should technically come to Clark or anyone he authorises, since he's in charge right now." Bruce said. "But no matter what happens, we can't let it go to Dak Syde. If it does, the reform stays as long as Mxyzptlk wants it to, so we need to make absolutely sure we get to it first, and dispose of it. Fortunately Arthur has a friend who promised to let us know when the notice is going to get h-"

"Clark" A voice yelled. They turned to see Arthur coming out of the auditorium and hurrying towards them. "The notice is coming out today." The students moving around the campus froze when they heard him shouting.

"What?" Clark exclaimed. "But it isn't supposed to get out for at least three more days!"

"Mxyzptlk must have had it arranged." Arthur said, jogging towards them. "Brian said the man's left twenty minutes ago. He's probably outside the university gates right now."

Clark stood rooted, his gaze directed at Khent. He knew Khent had heard everything Arthur had said. Khent shot Clark a look of triumph.

"Johnny" Qlak shouted to Johnny Kuik.

"Wally" Clark called out urgently as well.

Wally and Kuik looked at each other for the briefest second. The next moment, they were both gone.

The two raced through the campus, dodging the people standing their watching them in fascination. They both moved swiftly through the crowd, making their way to the campus gates. They were moving at the same pace, well below their full speeds. Both knew the importance of conserving their energies.

They were running neck and neck through a narrow passage, barely a few inches apart. Suddenly, Kuik gave a violent shove sideways, catching Wally in the shoulder and back. Wally tumbled to the ground, his momentum causing him to roll over several times and crash into a table. There was a collective gasp from the students, and several girls screamed.

But Wally was back on his feet in seconds, his body showing no hint of damage. Kuik was pulling ahead now, and pouring on more speed. Suddenly, Wally changed paths, heading for the auditorium undergoing construction. Kuik watched him go out of the corner of his eyes. He knew what Wally was up to. There was a shortcut through the auditorium to the entrance gates.

Kuik changed directions as well, going after Wally. Wally had slowed down, and was almost jogging. Kuik knew he was timing it so that he was the one to pass through the doors first. He grinned. There was a large green window right next to the door that he could easily get through and beat Wally to the gates.

Kuik accelerated his speed to its maximum level, knowing this was the decisive point, and headed straight for the green window.

There was a sickening crash, as Kuik's body ran headfirst into a very solid and painful wall. The green window was actually a part of the painting Kyle Rayner had done on the auditorium at Clark's request. It was so realistic it looked exactly like a real window. Wally had known this, and had counted on Kuik to try to take a short cut through it.

Kuik got dizzily to his feet. His entire body was aching. There was a faint buzzing in his head and stars were popping up in front of his eyes. He took a few breaths, trying to get back his bearings. Wally had disappeared.

Finally, Kuik felt well enough to resume running, but he knew he was too late.

He reached the gate just in time to see a car leaving in the distance. An official looking envelope was lying open on the ground, and Wally was sitting on the college railing, thoughtfully chewing on the last piece of a document.

"I've tasted better." he informed Kuik as he came up to him. "It's just not the same taste if it's not your test result that you're trying to hide from your dad..."

Kuik stared at him for a moment, then turned and walked slowly back to the college.

* * *

Dusk was falling.

Clark stared around the hall. It was the one that was undergoing renovations. He sighed, feeling a peaceful stillness standing there in the huge, silent room. It was finally over. The reform had been repealed.

"Wally told me you were here." Clark heard a voice say, and saw Lois coming towards him.

"Just taking a look around." Clark smiled. "Why aren't you at the party, Lois?"

"Yeah, I'm heading over there just now." Lois said. She looked slightly embarrassed. "I... look, I wanted to... kind of... say sorry, Smallville. I wasn't exactly supportive of your leadership."

"Don't worry about it, Lois." Clark said lightly. "I know you prefer action to standing around talking. But that's not always the right way to work. I prefer to look for a peaceful solution where ever possible, but I can see how that method might seem ineffective sometimes."

"Yeah, I just thought you were too soft on Khent and Vane." Lois said. "But then I heard about what happened in the auditorium." She grinned. "I didn't know you could be that assertive."

"I'm assertive when I need to be." Clark shrugged. "I just keep hoping I _wouldn't_ need to be, if that makes any sense."

"It does a little." Lois laughed. "So the college will be back to normal tomorrow? The same old boring routine."

"As normal as it ever was." Clark nodded. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find ways to make your life more interesting. Not to mention more dangerous."

"Yeah well, I do have a knack for finding trouble." Lois said with a grin. "Like that time with Dent and Lobo and Luthor. That was the second time you saved my life, you know. I guess I can always count on you to come rescue me, right?"

"Well, that would be a very strange approach to a relationship." Clark said, smiling. "And maybe not the healthiest one. But you know, if you think over your actions a little before rushing into danger, you wouldn't need me to save you all the time." Lois blushed. "I'm just saying Lois, there's no reason for the whole 'Act first, think later' policy."

"I'll keep that in mind." Lois said. "I'll see you around, Small- Clark."

"See you, Lois."

* * *

It was night time. The students had declared an impromptu celebration in two hours. Students were getting supplies from every quarter they could manage. Everyone seemed happy to have the reform lifted, and the strain of the last few days was forgotten.

Nobody stopped to question the silver haired old man with the electric blue eyes who was strolling through the campus, gazing with interest at the proceedings.

The old man made his way to the administration block of the college, where light shone through a single window in an office. The old man headed towards the office and knocked on the door.

"Come in." A voice called.

The old man entered the room. Mr. Dak Syde was sitting in his chair, poring over some documents. His eyes narrowed when he saw his visitor.

"Good evening, Mr. Syde." Mr Mxyzptlk said, entering the room.

"You seem remarkably composed for a man who invested so much money and effort to bring about a reform only to have it repealed within a week." Dak Syde said, still watching him through narrowed eyes.

Mr. Mxyzptlk smiled.

"My measure of success and failure is somewhat different from yours, Mr. Syde." He said. "I have satisfied my curiosity upon a certain thought that had been weighing on my mind. And it really was quite entertaining watching the students of your college make a stand against the system in the manner they did. I would say my little experiment was quite successful."

"Then I congratulate you." Dak Syde said, rising to his feet. "I only came to make sure my personal documents were in order. There is no telling what else Clark Kent and his friends might not have changed. If you will excuse me, I will now be leaving."

Mr. Mxyzptlk moved out of the room. Dak Syde turned off the light and came out as well. He locked the room and turned to Mr. Mxyzptlk.

"I wish you a good night." He said coldly, turning towards the hall.

"Incidentally, Mr. Syde." Mxyzptlk called out to his back. The dean turned. "I'm curious, what exactly did you promise Qlak Khent to get him to run for president? And were your orders for him to get Clark and Bruce and their friends _killed_ once Khent became president, or simply to get them expelled?"

Dak Syde's expression became as black as thunder. He turned on his heel and stormed away without a word.

Mr. Mxyzptlk watched him leave with a smile of amusement. He turned in the direction opposite to that of Mr. Syde and made his way to the auditorium.

Inside the huge hall he found Bruce putting all the computer parts he taken out of his computer and put in the school computers into a bag to return them to their rightful place.

"Congratulations are in order, I believe?" Mr. Mxyzptlk called out.

Bruce turned and looked at him in surprise. He frowned. "I wasn't expecting them from you." he said. "I thought you didn't want us to get the reform repealed?"

"Oh, I had no doubt that you and your friends would be able to manage it." Mr. Mxyzptlk said with a smile. "I was especially amused by what you did to the soft copy of the files concerning the reform. I even have a print of one of them with me." He took out a document and studied it with a chuckle. Bruce had changed every point in the document where Mr. Mxyzptlk's name had been mentioned, and turned the name backwards. The name now read Kltpzyxm on every page. "I assume you were not amused by how drastically my reform changed the scenario of the college." He said, still chuckling, stowing the document back in his pocket.

Bruce stared at him. "Why?"

"I'm sorry?" Mr. Mxyzptlk said, although the twinkle in his eyes showed he knew what Bruce meant.

"Why did you do all this?" Bruce said. "I've been racking my brains all this time, trying to think of how this would benefit you. But I can't think of anything. Why did you spend so much time and money on this reform? And you don't seem in the least annoyed that it's been repealed."

Mr. Mxyzptlk was listening intently. "Which question would you like me to answer first?" he asked politely.

"The one which explains things from the beginning."

"Well, let's see now." Mr. Mxyzptlk leaned back against the wall and looked musingly at the ceiling. "I saw you at the youth fest for the first time. I observed you and your friends for a while. I put some people to work on finding out your pasts. And then I executed the reform." Mr. Mxyzptlk smiled at Bruce. "I have studied you and your friends very closely indeed, and you all make fascinating studies."

"And why did you execute the reform?" Bruce asked.

"When I came here, I found my mind filled with memories of my own time in college." Mr. Mxyzptlk said quietly. "I saw the students behaving in exactly the same manner as in my time. So sure of themselves and their destinies. So confident of what life has in store for them. So completely certain that they will be able to handle anything, because they have their whole life mapped out in their minds." Mr. Mxyzptlk stared at Bruce. "Is it really so terrible that they get a taste of real responsibility, of what they can expect in the real world? That they understand their strengths and their weaknesses while there is still time? For a week's worth of loss in study, they gain experience which will help them cope when it is finally time to face the real world. Is that really so terrible?"

"All that money you spent just to teach them a lesson?" Bruce said incredulously.

"Ah, money. What is it really worth?" Mr. Mxyyzptlk said, waving his hand impatiently. "I have money, money enough to buy my own country if I want to. That's all I have, Bruce. Just money..." He stared at the young man standing in front of him. "It was when I saw you that I decided to involve myself here. You reminded me of what I was like in my own youth."

"I reminded you of yourself?" Bruce asked sceptically.

"You seem surprised." Mr. Mxyzptlk said with a smile. "Why is that hard to believe?"

"You don't seem like me at all." Bruce said with a shrug.

"And who do I seem like to you?" The old man asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Well actually, you remind me of Clark a little." Bruce said. "You both seem to have this annoying habit of acting like everything is happiness and laughter all the time."

"I remind you of Clark?" Mr. Mxyzptlk smiled. "I consider that a very great compliment, Bruce. Thank you. But answer me this, if he annoys you so much then why are you friends with him?"

"I ask myself the same question sometimes." Bruce said dryly.

The electric blue eyes stared into Bruce's eyes, losing something of their humour. Bruce was suddenly conscious of the eyes looking past his face and into his mind, into his very soul.

"This is not really a laughing matter, Bruce. The wall you built around yourself to keep away from other people did not work very well when you came here, did it?"

"There is no wall." Bruce said defensively. Mr. Mxyzptlk was coming towards him, those piercing eyes looking into his intently.

"Evasions don't work well with me, Bruce. I have seen too much of life, seen the same scenario played out too many times to be fooled anymore. You have come a long way from being the boy who based his life on a solitary existence bereft of the leavening influences of companionship. Your loner attitude has changed since coming here, since meeting people like your friend Clark. Why?"

"I can trust Clark." Bruce said, standing his ground, although feeling strangely unnerved under the old man's gaze. "This type of life requires a certain amount mixing with other people."

"You think your decisions are based solely on logic, and have nothing to do with emotions? The road you had set yourself upon left no room for anyone else to become a part of your life, but coming to this university helped you return before you could go too far down the path to be able to turn back. Shutting down your emotions is not the answer to making sense of the world. As complicated as it makes life, people are governed by emotions, not logic. You really believe you are different in that respect from the others? That you alone think logically? Then answer me this Bruce; out of all the students you could have chosen to be friends with, why did you gravitate towards Clark? Arthur Curry is of the same social status as yourself. John Henry Irons is on your intellectual level. Wally West shares your enthusiasm for fitness." Mr. Mxyzptlk came to stand right in front of Bruce. "Then why do you spend your time with a farm boy from Kansas? Why have you shed your loner habits to become his friend?"

Bruce stood motionless, not sure of what to say. Mr. Mxyzptlk continued in a gentler voice.

"It is because, Bruce, you understand that Clark possesses the one thing this world doesn't believe in, and the one thing it so desperately needs. The one thing that you prize more highly than others. _Hope_. The desire to believe in a better tomorrow, instead of staying chained to a miserable past."

Mr. Mxyzptlk stepped back and strolled over to the table.

"I was exactly like you when I was younger, Bruce. Cynical and bitter. More interested in logic than emotions." Mr. Mxyzptlk stared at Bruce, and in his eyes was a deep weariness, eyes which spoke of a very long age, and of experiences great and terrible that had left a mark on the mind. "I believed that logic was the answer to life's problems. That if I could control everything, there would be harmony. It was a foolish belief, of course. Humanity is the most unpredictable quantity in existence, and any attempt to control it only leads to more chaos."

"In my pursuit I lost everything. My family, my friends, everyone who loved me, everyone I loved. I see you going down the same path that I did Bruce. But you are much more brilliant and resourceful than I ever was, which makes me afraid that the mistakes I made will be on a much bigger scale in your case."

Mr. Mxyzptlk moved away and stood in front of the table. He stared at the computer parts scattered across it. Then he turned and looked at Bruce with eyes that were gentle yet serious.

"Don't ever move away from the people who care about you, Bruce, and the ones you care about. They make life worth living. No matter how alone you try to make yourself be, if only to protect others from what you see as your own flaws, you have to understand you are already surrounded by people who love you, not just here but in Gotham as well. Turning your back on them will be the real tragedy. The world does _not_ only contain untrustworthy people, and I am glad you are beginning to understand that now. It is why you became friends with Clark. He is the type of person who will never give up on his friends." Mr. Mxyzptlk smiled and turned to the door. "I wish you all the best in your life. Take care, Bruce."

He left, leaving Bruce staring after him.

Clark entered the hall to see that everything was in order there. He saw Bruce standing alone beside his bag, staring into space.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Of course." Bruce said with a slight start.

"Well, the old system gets re-established from tomorrow." Clark said as he came in. He turned and leaned against the table, gazing round the hall. "We did it."

"Congratulations are in order, I believe." Bruce muttered.

"What?" Clark asked, turning.

"Nothing." Bruce said, returning to his packing.

They stood in silence for a while. Then Clark glanced at Bruce and said quietly, "I'm sorry for letting you and John take the risk with the computers, Bruce. I realise how dangerous it was."

"You're worrying about that?" Bruce said shortly. "You didn't make us do anything, Clark, we both made the choice ourselves. It was the only way out of the situation."

"Right." Clark said, staring into the distance. "The only way."

It was the point at which they had taken the biggest gamble in the whole operation, doctoring the digital documents to make them obsolete. It was the only option, and was an illegal act. The only reason for them to not be caught would be because the reform itself had been established through bribery and other illegal means, and any investigations into the documents would inevitably have led to a closer look at the reform process by government authorities, which would not have been what Mr. Mxyzptlk or Dak Syde would have wanted.

The risk had been taken, and it had paid off.

"I also decided not to make any complaints to the authorities about Khent and his team." Clark said.

"You're going to let them go after all they did to try and discredit you?" Bruce asked, packing the last of the computer parts into the bag.

"There's nothing concrete we can pin them with except bad behaviour. For all we know, someone like Mxyzptlk might have been putting them up to it the whole time, there's no way of being certain." Clark said with a shrug. "And the truth is they weren't the only ones behaving badly. Most of the students were acting worse than usual these last few days. But you know, a lot of them seem more mature now, and the student body as a whole is extremely united tonight." He grinned. "So it seems some good did come out of this whole business. I've decided to let sleeping dogs lie. I think everything is going to be all right now, and thing will get back to normal soon." He glanced at Bruce. "Of course, I know you might still consider them a risk. I can understand if you want to get them punished. I won't try to stop you."

"No, that's fine." Bruce said brusquely, zipping up his bag. "Maybe this whole business is just left well enough alone. I won't say anything about them either."

"You're letting it go, just like that?" Clark asked, surprised. "You're not going to do an in-depth study of the situation first? Figure out the hundred and one ways this decision could go wrong?"

"No." Bruce swung the bag over his shoulder, not looking at Clark.

"But... why?" Clark asked.

"Because you said it was going to be all right." Bruce said, turning towards the door.

He left the room, leaving Clark alone in the hall with a bewildered expression on his face.

* * *

Diana walked up to the terrace of the cafe building where Clark stood leaning on the railing and staring out over the campus.

"John told me you had come up here." Diana called out to him with a smile as she walked towards him. "Why aren't you downstairs joining in the celebration with everyone else? We finally managed to get the reform removed. And from tomorrow, everything will be back to normal."

"I just wanted some quiet after all the hectic stuff that's been happening." Clark said, returning the smile. They stood side by side leaning over the balcony.

"John told me about the way you handled Khent and Vane in the auditorium." Clark said with a grin. "Very smoothly done, Miss Prince, with just the proper amount of restraint and tact."

"Why, thank you Mr. Kent." Diana said with a laugh. "I doubt you would have thought I was the suitable choice for convincing Mr. Rinkle if you had heard of that incident before."

"I still would have wanted you to go, Diana." Clark said quietly. "I don't think you realize it, but you have a gift for being very eloquent about a subject if you truly believe in it. I noticed it the first time I met you, when I took your interview. Not to mention you can actually handle an argument without losing your temper and becoming rude and unreasonable." He grinned at her. "You have the makings of a very fine diplomat, Diana."

"I'll keep that in mind in case I ever decide to go into politics." Diana smiled.

The two relapsed again into companionable silence, feeling the cool and refreshing breeze blowing over them.

"So now that the reform has been removed, will the staff retain the changes we made when they come back?" Diana asked.

"That's up to them." Clark said with a shrug. "They've been doing this for a long time. I think we can trust them to make the best decision."

"And I suppose you will be given a badge and an office now that you are the new college president." Diana said teasingly.

Clark was silent for a moment. Then he said softly, "No, Diana. I've resigned from the post of student body president."

"What!" Diana exclaimed, looking at Clark incredulously. "Why did you do that?"

"I always knew this was temporary, Diana." Clark said, avoiding her eyes and looking out over the campus. "I stayed in the position as long as it seemed necessary. As long as we had to keep Khent out of the position of power. But now the old system's returning. There's no point in my being president any longer."

"But Clark, you were voted for by the students." Diana protested. "And they still want you in that position."

"But I myself never wanted that position in the first place." Clark said, shaking his head. "All the time I was president, I was afraid that I was going to make a wrong decision, and someone else might have to pay the price for my mistake."

"But you didn't make wrong decisions." Diana argued. "All the students listen to you Clark; they trust you to make the right choices for them."

"But I don't trust myself." Clark said, looking seriously into Diana's eyes. "Do you know how scared I was when I sent Wally to race against Kuik, and Kuik threw him into those chairs? I was terrified Wally might not be able to get back up. Or when I was actually allowing Bruce and John to hack into the mainframe computer. They would have been in so much trouble if they'd been caught. I was terrified when John told me how Khent and Vane had been harassing you, just because I hadn't wanted to take any drastic steps to suppress them."

"But I wasn't hurt, and neither was anyone else." Diana protested. "You can trust me to take care of myself, Clark."

"There's no girl I trust to do that better than you, Diana." Clark said. "But I was still scared. And I think a part of me always will be."

"Clark, the students trust you." Diana said. "We all trust you. Even Bruce, and you know how rarely he trusts anyone."

"That's because they see something in me that isn't there. Something that they mistake for a leadership quality." Clark said softly, shaking his head. "But I'm not good with responsibility. I've never had to deal with it before. I wish I could be the person people expect me to be, but the truth is, after all is said and done Diana, I'm just a farm boy from Kansas."

Diana looked at him helplessly. She wanted to continue arguing, but Clark's expression told her it was no use.

"Oh come on, it's not the end of the universe." Clark said lightly, seeing her serious expression. "I'm just stepping down from an awful lot of responsibility. You should go join the celebrations too Diana, you've earned it. I'll be down in a minute."

Diana turned reluctantly towards the door. Clark returned to the railing. Diana reached the door and paused.

"Clark?"

"Hm?" Clark turned back to look at her.

Diana looked at him in the faint moonlight and said quietly, "You know, the first thing I noticed about you was how easy it was to talk to you. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. You have the ability to communicate with people, and you understand them. Even more importantly, you genuinely want to help them. That is the quality that the students saw when you stood up against Khent. It's what made them vote for you instead of him. It's what makes you such a good leader." Diana stared at Clark in the faint light. "You're not the naive farm boy anymore than you are the mild mannered reporter, Clark." She said quietly as she turned back to the door. "I wish you could see that for yourself."

She left, leaving Clark staring after her. He turned back slowly, and gazed again over the large campus stretching out in front of him.

* * *

_**And the duck goes quack quack quack.**_

_**Which has nothing to do with anything. I've just gotten into the habit of making some inane comment at the end of every chapter. **_


	12. Unknown Adversary

_**All names and characters are owned by DC comics. I own nothing for making this story profitable but my own ideas and talent and hard work.**_

_**Which means, of course, that I am not making any profit from writing the story.**_

* * *

UNKNOWN ADVERSARY

A month had passed since the reform had been imposed and subsequently repealed. The pace of studies had increased to make up for the lost time during the reform, and the drawing nearer of the midterm exams. Life had continued more or less peacefully on campus.

One afternoon, Wally was walking towards the cafeteria with Kyle for some refreshments after five straight hours of classes.

"You know, it's not even our fault the stupid reform was implemented in the first place." Wally said with a groan. "Where do the teachers get off doubling our assignments?"

"These last few weeks have been pretty brutal." Kyle agreed. "The main problem is the mid terms. The teachers need to get the course completed before the exams get here, and if that means doubling the workload, that's the student's headache. We're just supposed to deal with it. Anyway, man, I have to go. There's an art project I'm working on that needs the setting sun at just the right moment over the landscape. I'll see you later."

Wally walked on alone towards the cafeteria. He reached the canteen and collected a plate, scanning the room. Almost every table was crowded with students returning from their classes with their friends, but he saw Arthur sitting alone at a table. Wally collected his food and went to join him.

"Hey Arthur." He said, taking the seat opposite him. "Finished with your classes?"

"For the day." Arthur sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "There are times I find myself wishing I had stayed in Atlanta instead of coming here."

"Oh come on, It's not so bad." Wally said, beginning on his food. "One thing you have to admit is its never boring in this place. There's always something or the other going on."

"A little too much sometimes." Arthur said, digging into his own food. "I miss all my friends back at home."

There was a wistful tone in Arthur's tone, and Wally looked at him questioningly. "We talking about a special friend?"

Arthur stayed quiet for a second. "No." he said curtly. But then he looked up at Wally and smiled. "Redheads are usually a handful. But enough about me. What about you and Linda Park?"

Wally looked down at his plate. "Nothing new to tell there." He said. "These past few days have been so crazy, there's been no time to get to know her, and it's not like the opportunity is just going fall out of the sky and onto my lap."

"Anything is possible." Arthur said gravely. "You might get a chance to talk to her directly. You could impress her with your wit and charm. You will make her aware of your presence."

Wally looked at him, puzzled. "Why do you sound so confident?" he asked.

"Because the female in question is making her way to our table even as we speak." Arthur grinned. "Time to shine, Wally."

Before Wally could even turn, he heard a female voice ask, "Excuse me, would you mind if we sit here? Everywhere else is full."

"Not at all." Arthur said courteously, moving his table to leave more room on the side.

The girl who had spoken took the seat next to Wally, and her friend sat next to Arthur. Wally was too surprised to say anything. By the time he thought of a suitable opening line, everyone had resumed eating.

Arthur was looking at Wally expectantly, clearly waiting for him to make some comment. Wally, however, could only insert the spoon mechanically into his food and then into his mouth, and chew.

"Forgive me if I seem unduly forward, but were you not one of the members of the debate team that won took first place at the state fair a week ago?" Arthur asked the girl sitting next to Wally.

"That's right." The girl nodded, looking pleased.

"Well, allow me to add my congratulations for your victory. You have made the whole college proud." Arthur said, flashing her a charming smile.

The girl blushed, but looked pleased with the compliment. "Thank you, but I was just a part of the group."

"Don't be so modest Linda." Her friend said, giving the handsome blonde boy a warm smile. "I went there for the fashion show, and I saw the debate, and Linda was really great."

"Oh, so you're a model!" Arthur said, looking admiringly at the girl next to him.

The girl giggled. "No, I'm studying fashion." She said, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Forgive me." Arthur said gallantly. "But it was an easy mistake for any person to make. I'm Arthur Curry." He extended his hand.

"Veronica" the girl said, shaking his hand. "This is my friend Linda Park." Linda shook Arthur's hand as well.

"And this is my friend Wally West, the fastest runner in the college." Arthur said, indicating the fourth occupant at the table.

"Hi" Veronica said brightly, while Linda smiled at Wally.

"Hey" Wally said, managing a smile in return. He paused, trying to think of something to say, but then returned to his food, looking moodily at Arthur.

The rest of the time passed pleasantly at the table, with Arthur and Veronica carrying on most of the conversation, with occasional comments from Linda, while Wally mostly sat silent and reserved, and talked very little. When they had finished eating, they all rose from the table.

"It was very nice meeting you both." Arthur said with another charming smile. Wally could not help but notice that Arthur was several inches taller than he was, and his broad shoulders made him look bigger still. "I wish you both luck for the exams."

"Thanks, Arthur." Veronica giggled. "We hope we see you around soon. Bye Wally."

"Yeah... Take care." Wally managed. Linda flashed him a smile and the two girls left the table.

Arthur clapped Wally on his back. "You have a lot to learn about this business, young Wallace." he said, giving him a sympathetic look. "I'll see you around." He left with his plate as well.

Wally stood there for a moment, then picked up his plate with a sigh and moved towards the counter. He placed the plate on the counter and thought moodily over the recent conversation, remembering the exact places where he should have made some interesting comments.

Wally walked up to the front of the room in time to see Diana come into the room with her friend from History class, Julia Kapatelis. Julia went to get them a table, and Diana went towards the tray counter.

"Hey, Diana." Wally said moodily, walking up to her.

"Hello, Wally." Diana took a food tray, and gave him a concerned look. "What is the matter? You seem very depressed."

"Nothing. I was just talking to Linda Park." Wally followed Diana as she went to get food. Diana smiled at him.

"So you finally approached her?" She said. "That is very good news. The first time is usually supposed to be difficult. What was the conversation about?"

"Well, is it technically conversing if I hardly say a word, and my tall and broad shouldered friend who looks like one of those models from fashion magazines spends the whole time flirting with the girl and her friend?" Wally said bitterly. "I couldn't think of anything to say. But of course, Arthur had a smart comment for every occasion, most of them ending with a compliment."

"I am sorry, Wally." Diana said sympathetically. "Why did you not say anything?"

"I tried, but I couldn't think of anything. I was nervous." Wally said. "Plus it didn't help I was sitting with a guy who made me look like a dwarf from Snow White."

"That is a very unfair estimate of you, Wally." Diana said firmly. "You have many remarkable traits that I am sure Linda will like once she knows you better. You have at least managed to scrape an acquaintance with her. Now you can gradually show her your real personality."

"Yeah, I guess." Wally said, thrusting his hands in his pockets. "Provided she doesn't think I'm an idiot with no conversational skills after what she saw today."

"Of course not, Wally." Diana said soothingly. "You were simply nervous. It happens when you care for someone. You have a lot of good qualities that I am sure Linda will notice once she gets to know you better. And you are really quite tall."

Wally gave her a look. Diana was two inches taller than he was.

"I will stop talking now." She said hastily, taking her plate and going to find Julia.

Wally hung around the cafeteria for a few more minutes, thinking moody thoughts. But his natural buoyancy did not allow him to spend too much time brooding. By the time he walked out of the cafeteria, he had managed to view the matter with more optimism.

After all, he reflected, he was taller than Linda. Of course, with a guy like Arthur girls tended to flirt sometimes, and Arthur knew how to flatter girls. Doesn't seem that would impress every type of girl. Although Linda might be the type who would be impressed, and see Wally in an unfavourable light after seeing him with Arthur, and never take him seriously. She might decide she wanted someone like Arthur, someone really strong and good looking, and would not even recognise Wally next time they met, and all the time meet more charming and handsome guys in the college like Arthur Curry...

But he was just being paranoid, Wally thought, giving himself a mental shake. After all, Arthur was the exception rather than the rule. He himself wasn't that bad looking. And it wasn't like it was a stiff competition in terms of looks. This was a college, not a fashion show. It wasn't as though every guy in the college looked like a Greek god. Or a handsome prince from fairy tales...

Just then, Wally saw Clark and Bruce walking towards him from the opposite direction, deep in conversation. The two looked up to see Wally staring at them.

"What?" They asked together.

"I hate you guys." Wally muttered.

He walked past them down the corridor, leaving them to exchange a mystified glance.

* * *

Bruce and Clark went to the library to get some work done. Then they went to the cafeteria to get some refreshments, and finally to the computer lab, where Diana was waiting for them.

"Mocha, right?" Clark asked, extending a cup towards her.

"Yes, thank you." Diana said, taking the cup. "It is nice to have everything quiet now."

"Yeah, quiet and peaceful." Bruce said, taking the seat next to her. He hadn't forgotten about his intention to ask Diana out, but hadn't had a chance yet with the fast pace of college life. "Thanks for coming, Diana. John Henry said he needed to talk about something, and asked me to meet him here with you two."

Just then, John Henry entered the room, looking slightly anxious.

"Hey guys." He greeted them. "Thanks for coming."

"What's the problem?" Bruce asked. "You made it sound urgent."

"I was hoping you could help me with something, Bruce." John Henry replied, drawing up a chair in front of them.

"Yesterday, the website of the university was blocked by an unknown program." John said. "I've tried everything I know to get through the block to shut off the program, but the password is proving to be unbreakable. The teachers are stumped as well. And that's not the worst part.

"Since the program is in the website, all the digital documents it contains are frozen, including the particulars about the mid term exams." John continued. "The program is protected by a coded password, and the entire site has been locked down. No one has been able to gain access to the documents."

"So you need my help to crack the code?" Bruce asked.

"Yes, but it's a little more complicated than you think." John said grimly. "Our college relies heavily on the website for keeping student records and management particulars." John said, going to one of the computers and turning it on. "No one can get access the digital documents. It's causing enormous delay in administrative matters. I've been working with the professors in the computer department, but they can't do anything about it either. This isn't a normal code."

"Since yesterday, two students from the computer science department have come forward." John continued. "They say they've been in contact via email with a student who uses a pseudonym, and who told them a week ago that he had created a code that is impossible to break, and that he's been using it to send them the messages. They didn't believe him, and he said he was going to prove in front of the entire college that he really has created such a code."

John paused and looked at the three grimly. "A message was delivered to the head of the computer science department last night by the creator of the coded program. The message said that the program was a challenge to the entire staff and student body from one of the students. They can try to crack the code if they want. So far, no one has succeeded. The guy is probably just some idiot with a nerd complex convinced that he's smarter than everyone else, and wants to prove it. But the code definitely isn't something to laugh at. I was hoping you could help, Bruce."

"Sure, I can help." Bruce said. "I'll run the code through my computer. I don't think it'll take very long to break it, so long as it isn't a one time pad. Difficult codes are nothing new. Why exactly are you so worried?"

"It's an unbreakable code."

"Yeah well, the software I have was designed to crack the strongest codes." Bruce said, getting to his feet. "Let's see it, then."

"It's an unbreakable code."

"The creator is probably just using a more sophisticated encryption algorithm." Bruce said impatiently. "Lucius told me the software in my computer was developed keeping the latest algorithm techniques in mind. I'm sure it will be broken within the day."

"It's an unbreakable code."

"I heard you the first time." Bruce snapped irritably. "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because you're not listening, Bruce." John said. "When I say unbreakable, I don't mean 'might take a long time to break' or 'might be harder to break'. I mean a code which literally has no solution and cannot be broken by anyone. A direct contradiction to the Bergofsky Principle."

Bruce stared at him. "That's impossible."

"That's what I thought too." John said grimly. "But I've seen the code. I tried to break it. I really think it's the real deal."

"I don't believe it." Bruce said flatly.

"Why is this so hard to believe, Bruce?" Diana asked, confused.

"Diana, _every_ code can be broken. That's the basic meaning of the Bergofsky principle." Bruce said, turning to her. "If a code has been made, it _has_ to have a solution. It's a guarantee from before the code is even made. Codes are judged by how hard they are to break, but eventually, they can _all_ be broken. An unbreakable code is a mathematical impossibility. Saying a code can't be broken is like saying gravity doesn't exist. Or that a road doesn't have a beginning or an end."

"That's why I asked you to come, Bruce." John said. "I can't believe such a code can exist either, but I've seen it myself. Your computer is the most powerful of its kind in the college. Maybe even in all of Metropolis, not to mention all the code breaking softwares you have installed. I was hoping your computer would be able to crack it."

"Yeah, let's see this code." Bruce said, coming to stand beside him in front of the computer. Clark and Diana went to join them as well. "I'm sure it can be broken. And you don't know who created it?"

"No" John shook his head, going to the college website on the net. "The guy uses a pseudonym. And he seems to have a strange sense of drama, judging from what he calls himself." The website appeared on the screen and John clicked on the icon for administration.

For a moment, the screen froze. A message appeared next to the icon, with the words ACCESS DENIED printed across it. The next moment the screen turned a brilliant shade of green. An hourglass appeared in the centre of the screen that filled repeatedly with sand and then emptied. A message was printed beneath the hourglass.

The four stared at the message. It was in the form of a short question- _**Quis cust odiet ipsos custodies**__**?**_

"_Who will guard the guards themselves_?" Diana translated softly. "Why would he write something like that?"

"Like I said, this person seems to have a strange sense of drama." John said. "But that line isn't really important. Pseudo intellectuals are quite fond of quoting lines that they think seem cool. The real problem is the code."

"And there's no way to find out who this person is?" Clark asked. John shook his head. "You're saying all you know is his pseudonym? Which is?"

"Riddler... He calls himself The Riddler."

* * *

_**Dumbledore without the elder wand would kick the crap out of Gandalf the White.**_

_**Again, not even remotely connected to the story. Just something that needed to be put out there.**_


	13. The Question

_**In yet another effort to keep our attention focussed on our studies, the authorities at my college have restricted our internet access. So I can only access this site at rare and brief intervals, making it harder to answer the questions asked in the reviews through PMs. So here are some of them:**_

_**.Banana- I'm trying to introduce more characters, but the pace of the story is going to be pretty fast for the next few chapters, so it's doubtful there will be any new heroes in the immediate future.**_

_**JoPoGirlsKickAss- Bruce was not aware of the Riddler until the last chapter, and had never met him before in Gotham.**_

_**MO- Dick and Barbara are eleven years old in this story, and Tim hasn't even been born yet. Why should any of them be in the university? This isn't a Batman fic.**_

_** All names and characters are owned by DC comics. I own nothing and am making no profit from writing this story. Writing this never gets old...**_

_**

* * *

**_

THE QUESTION

Bruce sat in his room staring at the screen of his computer. It was daytime. He had been working on the blocked website all through the night, using three programs Lucius had given him specifically for the purpose. For eleven hours he had been working, trying every trick he knew on the site.

The code was still unbroken.

There was a knock on the door and Clark entered the room. He was dressed and looked ready for college, but he wasn't carrying his bag.

"Any luck with the code?" He asked, coming to stand beside Bruce.

Bruce shook his head, still staring at the screen. "It shouldn't take this long." He muttered.

Bruce's mobile rang on the side table. He reached for the phone and stared at the new message. He made a noise that sounded halfway between a snort of contempt and a growl.

"Another message from the Riddler?" Clark guessed. Bruce nodded, tossing the mobile over to Clark.

Since the night before, Bruce had been getting messages at regular intervals from the Riddler. They did not know how he had gotten Bruce's number, but his technical capabilities had proven to be of a large measure, and they knew he was skilled enough to get all their mobile numbers. The messages were nothing more than boasts that Bruce was not as intelligent as the Riddler, and it was useless for him to try to break a code created by someone so much cleverer than him. Apparently, The Riddler did not suffer from a lack of modesty. At first Bruce had simply laughed, but Clark sensed he was becoming more and more annoyed by the taunting tone of the messages, and his own inability to break the code. The messages were becoming increasingly more snide and irritating. And the competitive spirit that always lurked beneath the surface of Bruce's personality was gradually emerging.

Clark stared at the message on the mobile screen.

_The true masters can create jewels,_

_Beautiful works that merit the artist's worth._

_Those who can only follow have these works with held,_

_By means of riches, and a privileged birth._

_These false masters of the mind, Alas! The same old story,_

_Proclaim themselves most intelligent in the works they select,_

_They tarry forever in a fruitless quest for shared glory, _

_Never attained by the pretenders to the throne of intellect_

"He's becoming worse." Clark commented, replacing the mobile on the table. Bruce would not appreciate being called 'pretender to the throne of intellect' and having an advantage over others because of his 'privileged birth'. Clark stared at the computer, at the words 'access denied' still printed on the screen. A program was running, trying to break the code, but so far without success.

"Is the program supposed to take this long to work?" Clark asked, turning to Bruce.

"No" Bruce said, standing up and stretching his cramped muscles. "But this is only the third program I've tried. These aren't the ones that Lucius gave me this year. I'm saving those for last, because to use them, I'll have to turn off the firewall on the computer, and that'll leave the computer vulnerable to viruses and worms and other malware. I'm hoping the code will be broken before I have to do that."

"You think it's possible?" Clark looked at the screen, and then at Bruce. "You think this guy might actually have created an unbreakable code?"

Bruce stared at the screen as well. Yesterday, he would have said such a feat was impossible. Now, he wasn't so sure.

"I still say an unbreakable code is impossible." Bruce said, beginning to pace the room restlessly. "Cryptographers have been trying for decades to create a code like that. No one has succeeded. The closest they've ever come is the one time pad."

"You mentioned that yesterday." Clark said. "What exactly is a one time pad?"

"The only code in existence that is theoretically unbreakable." Bruce said. "Theoretically, that is. Even a one time pad can be broken, but the computational power needed for such an effort requires a million times more capacity than every computer on Earth linked together could provide. That's why one time pads are the only truly safe codes in existence."

"So it's possible this code is a one time pad." Clark asked. But Bruce shook his head.

"That wouldn't make any sense." He said. "We've seen a little of the Riddler's psychology from what John told us, and from the messages he's been sending me. It's obvious he's some egomaniac with a desire to show off his intelligence to the world. That's why he's chosen this way to show the world the code. He wants to prove he's smarter than everyone else, even me." There was a growl in Bruce's voice as he said the last line, and Clark could not help but smile. Bruce saw the smile and frowned.

"So what's the point of going through all this trouble to use something that's already been invented?" Bruce argued. "Besides, the main point against this code being a one time pad is the fact that John said he's been using the same code to send messages to the other students."

"And you can't do that with a one time pad?" Clark asked.

"No, you can't." Bruce said. "It's the reason why they're called one time pads. They can only be used once. Using the same code more than once means someone else can decipher at least a part of the code. And the more times you use the key, the more unsafe the code becomes. It's the reason why one time pads aren't used more extensively. Using the same pad twice becomes a security risk. John should have been able to guess at least part of the code, but he hasn't been able to do even that."

Clark sighed. "So we're back to square one." He said. "Is it possible The Riddler has created something similar to the one time pad?"

Again, Bruce felt too unsure to say anything. He could only glance at the screen. The code was still unbroken.

"There's something else John told me." Clark said. "The authorities are pretty worried about the blocked site, especially this close to the exams. John told them it's highly possible that you'll be able to break the code. They've given you the day off from classes, along with John and anyone else who could help you, to get the block removed. After that, they're calling in the police."

Bruce nodded. "A day will give me time to try Lucius's software." He said, sinking back on his bed. "At least we'll have some definite answers about this code, and whether it really is unbreakable."

Suddenly, the mobile beeped again. Bruce gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed it off the table. He stared at the message for several moments.

"Riddler?" Clark asked. Bruce nodded. "Something new this time?" In response, Bruce read the massage out loud.

_Once a little boy searched for contenders,_

_Those worthy to have a battle of wits against._

_Yet all he found were fools and pretenders,_

_Against Wayne, the battle had not even commenced._

_Now he wants to see if, for the other it truly exists,_

_the intelligence he thinks of so highly._

_Come find me if you have the wits,_

_To deduce these riddles rightly._

_Look for a defect in Pluto's track,_

_Which caused astronomy so much grief,_

_They tried very hard to preserve the past,_

_But the evidence was too complete._

_Inside the mistake you will find, _

_The resting place of Kings,_

_Eye of enlightenment, residuum of ley lines,_

_Call them what you will._

Clark looked at Bruce. "He's calling you out." He said. "He wants you to try to find him."

"This guy is arrogant beyond belief." Bruce said softly. He stared at the mobile screen for a few more seconds. When he looked up, there was a dangerous light in his eyes. "Fine. He wants to see whose smarter, I'll play his game. We'll see how good he is." He leaned back against a pillow and stared at the last four lines of the message. "Pluto's defect" He muttered. "That's the whole 'is it a planet or not' debate, right?"

"It was listed as a dwarf planet recently." Clark nodded. "The entire astronomy community was shook up. A lot of them still wanted to keep it as the ninth planet, and the decision to list it as a dwarf was taken by a small group of scientists at the top. The main argument is that a planet must clear the neighbourhood around its orbit to qualify as a planet, which Pluto doesn't do because of its small mass. They're still arguing over the definition today."

Bruce stared at Clark. "John said I could take anyone with me who could help? How about we do this together? We need to get this guy as soon as possible to get the block removed."

"Sure, I'll come too." Clark agreed. "But we don't know very much about the past." he pointed out. "King's resting place. That sounds like a historic place."

"I'm not very familiar with history either." Bruce agreed. "But we both know someone who probably knows the answer to the riddle."

Clark nodded. He had already taken out his mobile and was selecting the number. "Hello, Diana?" He spoke into the receiver.

* * *

Half an hour later, Clark, Bruce and Diana stood in front of the cafeteria, discussing their next move.

"So I talked to Perry White." Clark was saying. "He said there's an old amusement park six miles north of the university named Planet Pluto. It's shut down now, but people still visit some of the shops and novelty stores there."

"That's probably the place the riddle was referring to." Bruce said.

"How do we know the Riddler will really show himself to us if we follow the riddle?" Diana asked. "He could be laying a trap for us."

"It's the best hope we have for now of catching him." Clark said. "We need to get the block removed, and since Bruce can't break the code-"

"I didn't say I can't break the code." Bruce growled. "I told you there are still some programs which I haven't tried. But the Riddler is obviously very arrogant and convinced of the superiority of his mind, which means he'll become overconfident and make mistakes, and we'll be their waiting for him when he does."

"You don't think you might be getting a little competitive, Bruce?" Diana said. "In trying to prove you can break his riddles and the code?"

"No, I'm not." Bruce retorted, a little too warmly. Clark rolled his eyes.

Bruce felt exasperated and glared at him. Clark met his gaze blandly. "When was the last time that look actually worked on me?" He asked.

"Look, if I was getting competitive, I would've come alone." Bruce said. "I just want to catch him as soon as possible."

"So we should get going now." Clark said pointedly. The other two agreed. The three walked out of the cafeteria, heading for Bruce's Lamborghini.

They walked past a building on their way to the parking lot. Suddenly, a girl came out of the building and went rushing towards the cafeteria, passing by them and bumping into Diana in the process.

"Oh, sorry." The girl said breathlessly, letting go of Diana's hand, which she had grabbed for support. "I wasn't looking."

"That is all right, I am fine." Diana said, righting herself from the collision, and helping the girl up. Bruce saw that the girl was Selina Kyle. Selina hurried on towards the cafeteria, seeming to be in a big hurry. Bruce wondered what she had stolen this time.

* * *

The three stood inside the amusement park. Old and decrepit amusement rides and shops stood forlornly in patches over the entire area. There was a desolate feeling about the place, despite the occasional customers doing business in the few shops that were still running.

"So the last part of the riddle was about pyramids?" Clark asked as they walked slowly around the park.

"The resting place of kings." Diana explained. "The pharaohs were buried in the pyramids and prepared for their journey into the afterlife."

"And the eye and the ley lines?" Bruce asked.

"The symbol of the pyramid is often used to denote humanity's ascent to knowledge." Diana said. "It's been used quite often by various groups. The iconography of the freemasons contains a pyramid with an eye at the top, where the eye denotes complete knowledge of the self and the world. That symbol was adopted for the American one dollar bill as well, and it's still used in the design. The pyramids are also often attributed supernatural powers, the most notable being ley lines, which are as of yet unproven lines of mystical energy that are said to be channelled at the top of them."

"So according to the riddle, we look for pyramids inside this fair." Bruce said. "They could be anything, like a shop or a landmark."

"Or a fun house." Clark said, pointing into the distance as they turned a corner. There was a parking lot and next to it a pyramid shaped fun house. The mud splattered advertisement next to the house invited customers to experience the stunning world of mummies in coffins and pharaohs and sphinxes. The place had obviously been shut down a long time ago.

"Seems like we found the place." Clark said. "Let's see if we can find anything inside it."

"Wait." Bruce said. "What if the Riddler is watching us? He'll be able to escape while we're in there."

"You're right." Clark said. "Diana, you stay outside and watch the entrance and exit. If you see anyone leave the house, call me or Bruce."

"Very well." Diana agreed. "Be careful, you two."

Clark and Bruce disappeared inside the house. Diana strolled up to the parking lot and leaned against the railing, watching the house closely.

A young boy who had been sitting at the toll booth outside the lot came up to Diana. "'Scuse me, ma'am." he said respectfully.

Diana turned and saw he was holding up a single white rose, a car key, and an attached note. "This is for you." He said.

"For me?" Diana asked in surprise. "Who is it from?"

"A gentleman came here yesterday. He left this for us to give you." The boy said. "The key is for the car over there." He pointed towards the old ford parked nearby.

The boy held up the three items. Diana hesitated for a moment, but then slowly took them

"Thank you." She unfolded the note and glanced at the bottom. It was from the Riddler. She frowned, looking at the rose. She knew white roses were symbols of friendship. Was the rose symbolic or merely for show? And the car key? She opened the note and read the message.

_Tik tok the clock goes,_

_Time grows ever dearer. _

_In Germany seek the white rose,_

_Neath the hollowed bearer._

_The witch's brew in Salem's land,_

_brought out an ill wind that still blows._

_An age ended, another began,_

_The heart of darkness still endures._

Diana looked up from the paper and stared into the distance, her mind on the riddle. Witch's brew, Salem's land. That could only refer to the Salem Witch Trials, a dark chapter of medieval history when men and women who were believed to practise dark magic were burnt at the stake, often upon very little evidence. The ill wind that blew at the time caused men to persecute any person they had a grudge against. An age ended, another began. The heart of darkness still endures. What did that mean?

Diana stared at the third and fourth lines again. White rose. A resistance group in Nazi Germany, known for starting an anonymous leaflet campaign that called for active opposition to Adolf Hitler's regime. Hollowed bearer. The knowledge contained in works of art, often hidden from plain view, a method often used by artists to express their beliefs through symbolism.

Diana looked across the field at the point where Clark and Bruce had disappeared. She stared at the message. She knew which museum the message was indicating. Should she wait for the other two? But the message warned her of the necessity for haste. It did not seem likely now that the Riddler was here. He was trying to prolong the game. Clark and Bruce could reach her on her cell phone and meet up again later. She hurried towards the ford.

Clark and Bruce same out of the fun house, holding the new riddle in their hand and discussing it's meaning. They looked up to see that Diana was gone.

"Did you see the girl who was with us go anywhere?" Bruce asked the boy who was watching them from the booth.

"She got a message from someone." The boy said. "She went off in the car that was parked here." He pointed helpfully at the place where the ford had been parked. Clark took out his mobile and dialled Diana's number.

He frowned. "I'm not getting a ring on her mobile." Bruce took out his mobile and dialled her number as well. He could not reach her either.

"This is bad." Bruce said, his eyes narrowing. "The Riddler brought us out in the open. His sending us to places which are most probably rigged." He stared around the empty lot. "And now he's separated us."

* * *

Diana stared at the building. She had received three clues so far, and they had all ultimately brought her here, to what seemed an orphanage. The clues had appeared quickly, leaving no time for comparing notes with Clark and Bruce. They had not called her either, so it seemed they were still searching for the other clues. It was all most probably a trap, but like Clark had said, it was their best hope so far of catching the Riddler.

She got out of her car and entered the complex through the large iron front gates. She saw a large building with the words New Genesis printed across the top front on a billboard. The building was in a dilapidated condition, with stains on the walls and a part of the wall chipped off on the side. A couple of shabby wooden benches were kept in the lawn in front of the building. The lawn seemed to be in a better condition than the rest of the area, and flowers bloomed in the sunshine in dazzling colours of red, yellow and white.

Diana stood hesitating at the gates. This did not seem like a place which would house a criminal. Had she perhaps made a mistake in decoding the riddle?

While Diana was standing there, a little girl came up to her. She studied Diana with large, solemn eyes. Diana saw her looking and smiled at her. The girl came up to her tugged at her hand. Diana bent down till she was at the girls level. The little girl put her lips close to Diana's ears and whispered, "Are you here about a riddle?"

Diana looked at the child in astonishment. "Yes." She said. "Can you tell me anything about it?"

The girl shook her head. "I'm supposed to show you someone who can." She whispered again. "Will you come with me?"

Diana hesitated, wondering if this was a trap. But for now there was nothing to do except play along. She nodded. "What is your name?" She asked the little girl gently.

"Millie." The girl whispered with a grin, thrusting out a small, grimy hand. Diana shook her hand solemnly. "Hello Millie, my name is Diana." She said. "What do you want to show me?"

Millie took Diana around the orphanage, showing her the sights. It was a large area, and contained many smaller rooms where classes and tuitions were held. Diana saw several students sitting in the classrooms. The entire complex had that desolate air of disuse and old age. Diana saw that most of the infrastructure needed some sort of repair, and a few of the buildings were in a state of crumbling disrepair. Millie, however, spoke with pride of the orphanage, the children there, and the people who took care of them.

"And that's where we eat." Millie said, pointing to a shabby building in the distance. "I always have a hard time getting up in the morning, and cook always saves me some food. But I'm not like George who'd sleep till three in the afternoon if they let him."

Diana laughed, but she wondered what any of this had to do with the Riddler. There seemed nothing sinister about the orphanage, and anything that looked like a riddle. But she felt a stab of pity at the state of the buildings and the surrounding area. Places like these ran on the charity of the common public, and the public was notoriously thrifty outside of special occasions like Christmas. She resolved to ask her mother to send some money to the orphanage.

"There's Barda." Millie said suddenly. She grabbed Diana's hand and ran towards the girl who had appeared at a distance. "Barda!"

The girl waited for them and greeted Millie with a hug. "Hello Millie." She said. "Messing around in the garden again?"

"I was before." Millie said. "But now I'm showing Diana around the place." She tugged Diana forward.

The two girls looked at each other. Diana was a tall girl, but Barda dwarfed her. She seemed to be even taller than Clark and Bruce.

"Hello" Diana said, extending her hand. "Millie was showing me around the place. You have a beautiful garden."

"Thanks" Barda smiled, shaking her hand. "I know the place needs a little work, but it's home. I was just looking at the list for tomorrow's food. I'm just waiting for Scott, he should be here now."

A young man appeared, who was absent mindedly staring at a disk in his hand. "We don't need this now." He said to Barda, as he came up to them. "I fixed the hard drive on high father's laptop."

"I knew you would be able to." Barda said fondly, kissing him on his cheek. Millie giggled.

Scott cocked an eyebrow at her. "Got another joke about my girlfriend being taller than me, kid?" He said.

Millie nodded, still giggling. "But I won't say it." She promised. "This is Diana, Scott. She's here to see the orphanage." Scott glanced at Diana and shook her hand.

"Are you here to see Highfather?" He inquired.

"Not really." Diana said. "Millie was supposed to show me where to go."

"That's where we're going now." Millie said, again grabbing Diana's hand and dragging her away.

"It was very mice meeting you both." Diana called back.

"You too, Diana." Barda said, while Scott nodded and waved. "Take care."

"Are they your caretakers?" Diana asked Millie once they were alone.

"Yeah" Millie nodded. "They lived here too, once. They grew up here. Scott's high father's son. But they didn't go away like the others kids once they got older. They stayed here and they help run the place. Highfather trusts them with everything."

"Who is highfather?" Diana asked.

Millie grinned. "That's what everyone calls him." She said. "He's the one in charge of everything. You'll love him, Diana. We all do."

They continued on their round of the complex, Millie again pointing to objects of interest along the way.

"I'll show you my cat." Millie sat, who had grown completely comfortable with Diana, and seemed to regard her now as an old friend. "It's a beautiful tabby Barda got me for my birthday. I call him Toby. He drives Scott insane because he's always chewing on his computer disks and scratching his chips and stuff, but Toby's my best friend in this place."

"I would like to meet your Cat." Diana smiled. "I and my sister Donna loved to keep animals too. Our house used to be full of kittens and puppies and parakeets. My mother would be driven to distraction, especially when she would come home from a hard day's work and sit down in front of the television, and then hear a wail coming from her chair and have a kitten shoot out from under her seat. We used to get into a lot of trouble for that."

Millie was laughing hard. "That happened with Toby too." She said. "He's always looking for a place to sleep, and people are always throwing him out of chairs and beds. That's why he likes to sleep in the garden now." A distance away, a man was standing in front of a tree, gazing intently at the sky, his hands clasped quietly behind his back. Millie waved towards him.

"High father" She shouted. "I've brought a friend." She again grabbed Diana's hand and steered her towards the man, who had turned upon hearing his name and was smiling at Millie.

"Hello, Millie" He greeted her, laughing as the child ran to him and hugged him. "Why are you not in the garden on a fine day like this?"

"I'm with Diana." Millie said, bringing Diana forward like a conjuror introducing his final act. "I've been showing her the sights." High father looked at Diana.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Diana." He said, shaking Diana's hand.

"Thank you, it is a pleasure to meet you as well." Diana smiled. High father was a very old man, with a pure white beard. He was dressed simply and had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. Diana could understand why Millie said everyone loved highfather. The man radiated sincerity and peace. His blue eyes were filled with warmth and gentleness, and twinkled with humour. They reminded Diana of Clark's eyes.

"Have you seen Toby?" Millie demanded of high father, hanging on to his arm.

"When last I saw him, he was asleep behind a flower pot in the nursery." High father said. Millie raced off immediately to look for her pet. High father turned to Diana.

"Was there a special reason for your coming here, Diana?" He asked her.

"I thought there was." Diana said. "Have you ever heard of someone called the Riddler, high father?"

"Riddler?" High father looked puzzled. "No, I'm afraid I haven't. Were you supposed to meet him here?"

"I hoped I was." Diana said, looking at the buildings around her. "But I think it is highly unlikely now. This does not seem like a place where a criminal would hide."

"A criminal?" High father looked surprised. "No, I'm afraid we don't get too many of those here. This is a place of healing, and a place where children could feel safe. I am afraid there are no criminals here."

"Millie certainly seems very happy here." Diana said with a smile.

"She is a loving child." The high father said, gazing after Millie's small figure. "She is quiet the favourite here, although she does not truly understand why. Her health is somewhat fragile."

"I'm so sorry." Diana said. "Is it something serious?"

"She has a condition in her lungs." High father said quietly. "It is difficult for her to even breathe sometimes, and sometimes she can only speak in whispers."

Diana stared after the figure of Millie in the distance. She could not believe that the laughing and active child was in such poor health. "There is no cure?" Diana asked the high father.

"It is a genetic condition." High father said, shaking his head heavily. "Before, something might have been done, unfortunately, we did not have the money for the operation. And now we can only hope..." He sighed, looking at the sky. "It is times like these that I feel I am fighting an uphill battle." he said. "There are so many others like Millie. We had another child Jason Blood. His path was not easy either. I hope to god he is in a better position now that he is older."

Just them, Millie returned bearing a scrawny tabby cat in her arms.

"I found him." She said triumphantly. "Look Diana, isn't he beautiful?"

The kitten was obviously taken care of very well, judging from his glossy fur and round belly. But it seemed to be a bit on the diminutive side, with large flapping ears and a stumpy tail. It would not have seemed handsome from a strictly aesthetic view, yet it was obvious that Nellie considered it a very fine specimen of kitten hood.

"He is beautiful, Nellie." Diana said, stroking Toby's head lightly. The kitten purred and licked her hand.

"He likes you." Millie said in delight. "He doesn't do that with anyone but me and Barda and highfather."

"Animals generally like me." Diana said with a smile.

"Well, I have some business to take care of." High father said. "You two enjoy yourselves here. You get a spectacular view of the setting sun from this angle. But don't stay out too long, Millie. Diana, it was a pleasure talking to you."

"For me as well, High father." Diana said, shaking his hand. "I wish you all the best in your work."

"Thank you" The high father smiled and left.

Diana stared around her again. Dusk was falling, and she was still no nearer to finding the Riddler. She had discovered that her phone was not working either, and she could not contact Bruce or Clark. She wondered what to do now. Millie was stroking Toby, who had fallen asleep. She placed the kitten carefully on a nearby bench.

"What time is it, Diana?" She asked suddenly.

Diana looked at her watch. "It is five thirty right now." She said. "Do you have to get back to your room?"

"No, but he told me to give you the message at five twenty five." Millie said.

Diana stiffened. She looked down at Millie. "Who told you?" She asked.

"The one you call the Riddler." Millie said matter of factly.

Diana looked at the little girl incredulously. "You are working for the Riddler?" She asked in disbelief. She had assumed the child was merely supposed to deliver a message, like the boy at the parking lot.

"Well, yes." Millie said. "He's doing it all for us. He said he's help us."

Diana mind was processing this information. Apparently, the Riddler had made promises to Millie to secure her cooperation. Diana felt a wave of anger. What had he promised the innocent child to get her to work for him? She looked down at the little girl.

"What did he tell you, Millie?" She asked.

"I was supposed to show you the orphanage till five thirty." Millie said. "Then he told me to tell you the code is waiting in the old warehouse on the other side of the general hospital." She pointed towards the north. "You're to go and get it."

"That is all?" Diana asked. "No riddle, no cryptic questions this time?"

Millie shook her head. "That's all he told me." She stared at Diana. "Are you angry with me? I just did what he told me to do. He said he'd help us."

"No Millie, I am not angry with you." Diana said, bending down to give the young girl a hug. "And thank you for telling me this. Now perhaps, we will get some answers. I will have to go right now."

"Will you come back sometime?" Millie asked, walking with her back to the entrance gate of the orphanage. "I liked showing you the place today."

"Thank you, I would like to come back and see you too." Diana smiled, opening the door to her car. "I will come as soon as the exams are over. And I will try to bring my friends as well. I am sure you will like Clark. Take care, Millie."

"Good bye Diana." Millie waved to her as the car moved out of the parking lot. Diana watched the little girl wave in the rear view mirror. She sighed and whispered a prayer for Millie's safety. Then her thoughts turned to what was awaiting her in the warehouse, and her eyes hardened.

* * *

Clark and Bruce stood inside a factory. The factory seemed to have been closed for sometime, and they had found little difficulty getting in. They now stood in a darkened hall with several pieces of machinery kept at different locations.

"This is the place, right?" Clark asked.

"It should be." Bruce said. "The riddle said to look for a mare's nest of contrivances. I'm guessing that means one of these machines."

"I'll go look upstairs." Clark said. He left Bruce to look among the machines kept nearby. Bruce took out his mobile and dialled John Henry Irons number.

"Any news on the code, John?" He asked when John picked up.

"Still unbroken." John said. "How's your investigation getting on?"

"We're getting there." Bruce said. "Listen, turn on the programs I showed you in the morning. They're the best I have, and they can break the most powerful codes."

"You're sure?" John asked. "I'll have to turn off the firewall."

"Do it." Bruce said. Losing contact with Diana had showed him how serious the situation was. They needed to break the code and find the Riddler quickly. "The computer's only connected to the university computer, right? It's safe for now. Call me if anything happens." He switched off the mobile and resumed searching through the machines. Speed was essential at this point. They needed to find the Riddler and Diana as soon as possible.

"I found it." Clark's voice came from upstairs. He came down the stairs holding a piece of paper. "Another riddle."

"What does it say?" Bruce asked urgently. Clark smoothed out the piece of paper and read out the lines.

_Yarva Demonicus Etrigan.  
Change, change the form of man.  
Free the prince forever damned.  
Free the might from fleshy mire.  
Boil the blood in heart of fire.  
Gone, gone the form of man,  
Rise the demon Etrigan!_

A roar suddenly filled the room, echoing through the area. Clark looked up from the piece of paper. He was standing in the shadow, and he did not see the bulky figure appear out of the darkness behind him. Before Bruce could warn him, the figure had ploughed into him, the surprise and ferocity of the attack catching him unawares and knocking Clark violently headfirst into the ground. The figure kept moving with remarkable speed. Bruce had barely time to register a strangely deformed face before the demon was upon him.

Bruce met the attack with a flurry of kicks and punches, each blow aiming for pressure points on his opponent's body. The demon grunted in pain, falling back a little, and Bruce redoubled his assault.

But the apparition was in a fit of fury and seemed to shrug off the attacks, ignoring the pain in his body from the blows that Bruce had landed on him. With a massive arm sweeping in a left hook, Bruce was knocked to the ground as well, and the demon stood roaring over him.

But suddenly, the demon was lifted off of him and thrown away, and Clark was standing there instead.

"You okay?" Clark asked, bending towards Bruce.

"He's coming back." Bruce snapped out. The demon, again displaying surprising speed, had recovered almost instantaneously and was running back at Clark. This time Clark was more ready, and he attempted to stop the demon in his tracks.

But Etrigan seemed possessed. He struggled like a madman and Clark could barely hold onto him. Suddenly Etrigan's teeth sank into Clark's hands and Clark released him instinctively. The demon knocked him to the ground again with a howl.

A chain twisted around Etrigan, and he was pulled off Clark. The demon fell to the ground. Bruce was dragging him back with the chain. With a quick twist, Etrigan got back to his feet and pulled at the chain hard. Bruce let go of the chain, and jumped out of the way as Etrigan charged at him. But Etrigan was able to catch his leg with the chain and threw him sideways, landing him next to Clark, who managed to stop Bruce's head from smashing into the base of a machine.

"He's too strong." Bruce panted, as he got to his feet next to Clark. "And his orders seem to be to kill us here."

"We don't have time for this." Clark said. His voice had taken on that dangerous edge which Bruce very rarely heard. They needed to get to Diana. "Get out of the way, Bruce."

The demon was thundering towards them again. Bruce took two steps back. Now the demon was directly in front of Clark. Suddenly, Clark put on a burst of speed, meeting the monster midway in its path.

The noise of impact was very loud as the two bodies collided. The monster roared, pouring on more power into his thick shoulders, straining to push Clark back.

But the demon found himself being pushed back instead. His body was virtually lifted off the ground by the powerful arms and he could only struggle unavailingly as his body was smashed into the wall behind him.

Clark pinned him to the wall and released him. Immediately, the monster swung a fist at him. Clark blocked the blow, his hands curling into fists.

Two punishing uppercuts to the ribcage left the demon gasping. Two more hooks across the face smote him. Clark lifted the demon by his shoulder and waist and brought him crashing to the ground with a deafening boom.

"The chain, Bruce." Clark called out. Bruce was already bringing the chain over. Together, the two tied up the demon while he still lay winded on the floor. He tried to struggle against the chain, but it was too strong.

The two hoisted their struggling captive to his feet and pushed him up against the wall. His face was deeply scarred and pockmarked, and the feral look in his eyes made him look truly disturbing. But both Clark and Bruce were too angry to be intimidated.

"I'm assuming you're working with the Riddler." Clark said, holding Etrigan by his collar. "Where is he?"

"You think I will tell you?" The voice was harsh and guttural. Etrigan stared at them with eyes filled with hostility.

"You were trying to stop us from getting to the Riddler." Bruce said. "That makes you an accomplice in his illegal activities. You realise we can just hand you over to the police?"

"I don't care what you do." Etrigan hissed at him. "The cause I am fighting for is worth any amount of sacrifices."

"What cause?" Clark demanded. "You're aiding a criminal. There's nothing worthy about what the Riddler is doing."

"Of course you would believe that." Etrigan growled. "People like you, so called _normal_ people, have always hounded me because of the way I look. Only _they _understood. They took me in. And I will do anything to help them."

"They?" Bruce pressed. "Who are they? How many people are involved in this business?" But Etrigan shook his head.

"I will never tell you a single word." He panted. "Everything has been planned. You cannot stop us. Edward's plan will succeed, and I don't care what you do to me, I won't say anything."

"You already have." Bruce said. "You said his name is Edward."

Etrigan froze, realizing his mistake. Then he howled again and fell to the ground.

Clark and Bruce came out of the factory. Clark was on the phone. "Wally?" He spoke. "Get Lois and Cat's help. Find out anything you can about a student named Edward, who knows something about computers, and is related in some way to code breaking or riddles, and has an interest in history or astronomy. Yeah, I know it's not much to go on, just do your best. Call me or Bruce if you find anything."

* * *

The Riddler crouched in his hiding place inside the abandoned warehouse. He glanced at his watch. In a few minutes it would be exactly six. She should be here any minute now. He looked out of a nearby window at the sky glowing dimly with the last beams of sunlight, in contrast to the dark and gloomy warehouse. A melodramatic setting, perhaps, but any good show was all about creating the right effects. He waited.

Half an hour later, she had still not arrived.

He glanced at his watch again impatiently. Where was she? Millie must have told her about the warehouse. She should have been standing at the front door a long time ago. Was she waiting for the police? Had she discovered her phone wasn't working and had gone for help? No, he had stressed the importance of speed in all his riddles for her. He had impressed upon her how important speed was. He had studied her nature. She would not be afraid to come alone if there really was great need. He came out of his hiding place and went with smooth, noiseless steps to the front door. He opened the door and looked outside. The factory's side of the road was deserted, just as it always was at that time. He came back inside and looked at the computer. It was still doing its work.

Suddenly the lights went out. The computer began to emit a loud and penetrating beep as it switched to power saving mode. The Riddler stiffened. He could hear footsteps behind him. He turned just in time to have a heavy metal rod smash across his face. He was unconscious before his body hit the ground.

* * *

The Riddler woke up to a throbbing in his forehead. He was sitting on the ground bound up with some of the rope that had been lying around the warehouse. Diana Prince was standing in front of him, watching him. He stared back at her.

"This is an unexpected development." He remarked, trying to get into a more comfortable position on the floor.

"Did you really expect me to be foolish enough to come in through the front door?" Diana asked coldly.

"That was the plan." The Riddler admitted. "I forgot you have a tactical side to your personality that people rarely see. I confess I underestimated you." He stared at Diana. "What now, Miss Prince?"

"I have called Clark and Bruce from the telephone booth outside." Diana said. "They will be here soon. Bruce will turn off the computer, and then this whole business will be over."

"Forgive me if the news does not seem to fill me with joy." The Riddler said. "But I am glad we have the chance to talk before the other two get here." "While we are waiting for them to arrive, would you like me to tell you what my original intent in this business was? I think the other two will be finding the clue right about now which will tell them the truth as well. I meant that particular riddle to stop them in their tracks so they could go no further, but your phone call seems to have made that plan pointless."

"So tell me your real plan." Diana said. "I am all ears."

"It is a little different from what you imagine." The Riddler said quietly, looking at her intently.

* * *

Bruce was on his mobile, talking to Wally. He was standing outside a costume shop. Clark had gone inside to make inquiries about a message they had received from the Riddler.

"There are two fifty Edwards in the college." Wally was saying. "A total of seventy in computer science. Out of these seventy, quite a few are interested in cryptography. But I think the one you and Clark are looking for is Edward Nygma."

"What do you know about him?" Bruce asked.

"He's a third year student." Wally said. "He's a member of a group of amateur cryptographers who are interested in codes and code breaking. It's quite a large group, and it's got members in other colleges as well. But this Nygma guy also won a prize for best original poetry in his second year, and he was involved in the committee in charge of the fest. He came up with the riddles in some of their events. He is also a major in world history, and is an amateur astronomer. He's not in the university today."

Bruce nodded. "Looks like he's the one." He said. "Clark's gone to look for the next clue. We'll call if we get anything definite." Bruce switched off the phone and frowned into the distance. Edward Nygma certainly seemed to fit the description.

"I found it."

Bruce looked up to see Clark returning with a piece of paper.

"Found it in the pocket of some green harlequin type suit." Clark said.

"What does it say?" Bruce asked, turning his eyes towards the road. Clark opened the folded paper and read out the four lines.

_Heroes search for nobility in men, a righteous fire,_

_But truth seekers accept, honour is for hire. _

_Winged Cats and a multicoloured sapphire,_

_Your mistake? You trusted a liar._

Clark looked up slowly from the paper to Bruce.

The two stared at each other, the words of the riddle echoing through their minds.

"Heroes look for the nobility in men." Bruce muttered. "That parts simple enough. People trust others to have a sense of honour, and expect them to be truthful."

"But truth seekers, realists, understand that honour can be brought, and people can, in fact, be completely dishonest." Clark said, staring at the paper with a frown on his face.

"Winged cat, multicoloured sapphire." Bruce stared at the road. "Neither of those exist. They're both imaginary."

"You trusted a liar." Clark repeated the last line softly.

There was a silence again, as the two brooded on the answer to the riddle.

"So he's calling himself a liar." Bruce said, turning to Clark. "What do we get if we take everything the Riddler has told us up to this point as a lie?"

"The very first riddles he sent us were boasts of how clever he was, and how it was impossible for anyone to break the code." Clark pointed out, casting his mind back over the entire day.

"So where's the lie in a boast." Bruce muttered musingly.

"The lie of exaggeration." Clark said, a frown on his face. "He's already proven he has studied us closely by the riddles he's left us. What if he knew the one way to get your full attention was to pretend he has created a problem which you could not solve? To call out to your competitive instincts? Which means everything else we know about this business is a lie as well, which means..."

"There is no unbreakable code." Bruce finished, staring out over the road. The two stood in silence, digesting this information.

"Is there any way he could have made a code that only seemed unbreakable, even though it really wasn't?" Clark asked finally.

Bruce nodded. The answer was only too easy, now that he was looking at the question dispassionately and without the competitive edge.

"Two separate one time pads." He said quietly. "One to send the students message through, and a separate one to use for the site block. That way even if someone decoded the ones he sent the messages through, the key still wouldn't apply for the block code. Instant unbreakable code."

Again there was silence. The silence of dawning revelations.

"The entire basis of our approach to this matter was the belief that The Riddler was an arrogant genius who wanted to proclaim his new discovery to the world." Clark said, a frown on his face. "Now that that doesn't seem to be the case, what could the motive be?"

"Only one." Bruce said grimly. "Leading us on a wild goose chase, away from the university. Keeping our attention diverted. "And," Bruce ground his teeth as he said the last line. "Arranging matters so I would turn off the firewall on my computer."

* * *

"I wanted control over Bruce's computer." The Riddler said simply. "The most powerful computer in Metropolis."

Diana stared at the young man sitting trussed up on the floor.

"And so you led us on this chase." She said. "The virus your program was hiding hacked into Bruce's computer while the firewall was turned off, and took control."

"The best plans are always the simplest." The Riddler said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Lay a trail of clues for you all to follow, and clear the way for the virus to do its work."

"But your plan did not work out quiet the way you had planned, did it?" Diana said, looking down at him. "You could not capture me. Clark and Bruce are on the way over here. And as for the virus, what is to stop me from unplugging this computer and ending your control?"

"Nothing but my eloquence." Edward said, looking seriously into Diana's eyes. "I am afraid my reasons for bringing you here are not what you believe them to be, Diana. I knew if I was to hack into Bruce's computer, he would try to find me, most probably with the help of your little group of special friends. I knew that once that happened, it would not be long before they tracked me down. And so I formed this plan."

"And what was my part in your plan?" Diana asked in a hard voice.

"I knew once Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne were on my trail, no amount of obstacles would impede their progress. I might be able to slow them down, but they would not be stopped until they had found me. That is where I needed you. Because the only one who can stop those two now... is you."

Diana stared at him. "What makes you think I would try to stop them?"

"Because the choice is between apprehending me, and stopping Dak Syde." Edward said.

Diana froze at the mention of the name. Edward nodded at her expression. "You know that man. Your friends have interacted with him before. You have some idea what he is capable of. Why do you think he wanted to have you all solve the code instead of calling in the police in the first place?"

"Taking Dak Syde's name does not mean I am suddenly on your side." Diana said with a frown.

"But you will be after you hear the whole story." Edward said. "I believe we still have at least fifteen minutes until your friends get here." He leaned back against the wall and looked at the ceiling. A short pause, and then he began to speak.

"Dak Syde is the son of a very rich man who moved to Metropolis fifty years ago. Dak Syde's father built hospitals, orphanages and schools and colleges with his money, the most famous being the university we attend." Edward looked at Diana. "But don't let those actions fool you. It was all a front. The generosity was meant to hide the many illegal activities he indulged in. Everything from bribery to extortion to money laundering was operated through those fronts."

"It wasn't long before the police became suspicious and began to investigate the matter. They worked hard to stop these activities, and succeeded with the help of several moles they employed. But still they could never pin the crimes on Dak Syde's father. By the time Dak Syde came into the fortune, his fortunes had dwindled considerably, and the safest thing for him to do was to become the dean of the university."

"Even though many of the sources of illegal money have dried up, Dak Syde still has a finger in many of the illegal proceeding of the city. His presence however, is no more than a shadow, and any attempts to bring him to court would be futile."

Edward stared at Diana and continued in a hard voice. "Yet there is still the orphanage, Diana. The orphanage which got a bad reputation from the doings of Dak Syde's father, so that it rarely gets donations now, and is still technically under Dak Syde's control, still used for several illegal activities, with no one to pay the price but the children. You have already seen the state the orphanage has come to."

Diana stared at him. "New Genesis" She whispered.

"Still struggling to survive under the high father's command." Edward said quietly. "You have seen the conditions there. And every day the situation becomes worse."

"Every riddle I gave you was meant to show how many times this has happened in History. The Salem witch trials, the actions of the white rose society. Those events show the power that ruthless dictators possess and use to destroy the lives of innocents. I will not allow that to happen if there is something I can do about it. And I am not working alone. There are others. Jason Blood, who calls himself the demon Etrigan. Shunned by society for his birth defects, he found a safe haven in New Genesis. Scott Free, the most brilliant hacker in Metropolis, was working with me as well. We conceived the plan as the only way to break the orphanage from Dak Syde's grasp."

"Bruce's computer is uniquely powerful. I know he has already used it once to hack into the university computer. But the information pertaining to the orphanage is the most heavily guarded, and since Bruce was only concerned with the reform particulars, he never tried to break through those barriers. Planting the block on the university page was easy enough, but for burrowing deeper into the protected documents, we needed Bruce's computer."

"And what is your plan now?" Diana asked.

"Even as we speak, the computer is hacking into the university mainframe." The Riddler said. "It will erase all the data present there about the orphanage. It will save the documents about the orphanage's ownership to our files. We will use that information to make a deal with Dak Syde. Relinquish control of the orphanage, and we do not hand over the documents to the police. None of this is legal, I realize that. But you cannot be too heroic when you are planning to make a deal with the devil." He stared at Diana, and she knew he was determined enough to carry out the plan.

"The computer is right in front of you." Edward said. "As you were saying, you can simply pull the plug, and it will all be over. You will have done what the law tells you is the right thing to do, and I will not be able to stop you."

Diana stood motionless, making no move to go towards the computer.

"The choice is not an easy one." Edward said. "But you will have to make the decision soon. Another hour or so and the work will be complete."

"It is not wise to attempt to play games with people like Dak Syde." Diana said slowly.

"I would not be doing this if there was another way." Edward said.

"There are legal channels." Diana said. "The proper authorities should be told about this. Perhaps they can help. We shouldn't ignore the people who have been assigned the task of protecting the public."

"Perhaps you need to think about the question which started all this." Edward said softly. Diana stared at him. "Only one riddle remains unanswered, Diana. The very first riddle. The question no one answered. You remember, don't you?"

Diana stared at the captive, the image of a computer screen flashing through her mind. "Quis cust odiet ipsos custodies_?_" She spoke quietly.

"_Who will guard the guards themselves?"_ The Riddler sat up on the ground, breathing hard. "Who will save society from the guardians when they stray from the path? What happens when the protectors themselves are the ones causing the harm? Dak Syde is supposed to be one of the protectors of society as well. This is the only way to show the world who he really is. But if we do that the orphanage gets dragged into the mess too, and it will never be able to live sown the reputation it will acquire. So who will decide when to stop people like Dak Syde from catering to their selfishness and greed, and when to save the innocents?" The Riddler stared at Diana standing frozen by indecision in front of him. "That is the killer question, isn't it?"

* * *

Clark and Bruce raced into the dark warehouse. Night had fallen, and their shadows ran beside them as they made their way in through the gates.

"Diana" Clark shouted when he saw her, while Bruce sighed with relief. "Thank god. We were so worried."

"I'm fine, Clark." Diana said, as they came to a stop in front of her.

"Where's the Riddler?" Bruce demanded. "Did he get away?"

"He is still here." Diana said quietly. "I let him go. He is somewhere in the warehouse."

"You let him go?" Clark said incredulously.

"It doesn't matter." Bruce growled, scanning the huge room. "He's not going to get away now."

Clark and Bruce walked towards the staircase, their expressions dangerous. But suddenly, Diana stood before them.

"Wait." Diana said, barring their way. "You both need to hear what he told me first."

"Diana, this man is dangerous." Bruce said impatiently. "We need to catch him as soon as possible."

"Not until you have heard me out." Diana said, not moving away.

Bruce and Clark stared at her. There was a curious expression on her face. Clark took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his expression relaxing.

"We're listening, Diana." He said, crossing his hands across his chest. Bruce looked impatient, but he had stopped as well.

Rapidly, Diana told them everything Edward had told her, and everything she had seen at the orphanage. She took them to where the computer was still continuing its silent work extracting the files. Clark and Bruce bent towards the screen.

"Dear god." Clark said softly. Bruce reached for the keyboard and started checking the documents and files the Riddler had already extracted. For a long time, the three stood in silence watching the screen.

"This puts a different complexion on things." Clark said quietly, rising and moving slowly to stand a few feet away from the computer.

"The information is genuine, Bruce?" Diana asked. Bruce moved away from the computer as well.

"It seems it is." He said, looking slightly nauseated by what he had seen. "They also contain information about some of the things Dak Syde does through the orphanage."

The three stared at each other. For a long time they were silent, each digesting the new angle they had seen of the situation.

"We need to get this information to the police." Bruce said abruptly.

Clark shook his head. "Doing that will harm the orphanage irreparably." He said. "All those children will be affected."

"It will be temporary." Bruce said impatiently. "We cannot let Dak Syde get away with this."

"It's not about Dak Syde." Clark snapped. "It's about keeping the children safe."

"I don't want those children to get hurt either." Bruce was getting irritated. "We'll move them to another orphanage. A better one."

"That orphanage is their home, Bruce." Diana said soberly. "The people I met there were very fond of the place, and I do not believe they will want to leave by their own choice."

"What about Dak Syde?" Bruce argued. "We can't just let him get away with this."

"We have to look at the bigger picture." Clark said. "It's not as simple as getting Dak Syde into jail."

"We can't let him walk away when we have the evidence, Kent." Bruce said, frowning at him. "We have to look at this logically."

"The logical choice isn't always the right choice." Clark growled back. "There will be repercussions left to deal with, and it will not end well for the orphanage."

There was a pause as the two glared at each other.

"We're not going to agree over this, are we?" Bruce said finally.

"No." Clark replied.

As if by mutual consent, both relaxed and turned to Diana, who had been going through the same arguments in her mind.

Clark nodded to her. "So let us know what you decide." He said, turning towards the door.

"Yeah, we'll be outside waiting." Bruce said, turning towards the door as well.

"What?" Diana exclaimed. "You are both going to just walk away?"

"Diana, we are not going to be able to make a decision about this." Clark said, turning back to her.

"I won't let Clark just hand over the documents to Dak Syde, and he won't let me call the police." Bruce said. "It's a stalemate. Someone else will have to make the judgment."

"And you're the only one we both trust enough to make the decision." Clark added. "Just do what feels right to you, Diana."

Diana stared at them. She knew they weren't joking. Clark turned and left the room.

"Where's your purse?" Bruce asked.

"Why do you want my purse?" Diana asked in surprise.

"I just want to check something." Bruce said. "Where is it?"

"By the door." Diana said. Bruce went to the purse and rummaged in it for a minute. He extracted a shiny round disk about one centimetre in radius.

"This belongs to someone else." He called out to Diana. "I'm going to go return it." He left as well, leaving Diana alone in the room in front of the computer.

Bruce went outside and scanned the surrounding area. Clark was standing leaning against the wall on the side. He looked at the road. It wasn't really likely she would be there but just maybe-

Bruce saw Selina Kyle sitting outside a small cafe across the road, sipping on a cup of coffee. He walked across the road to her. She pretended not to notice his approach until he was standing right next to her.

"I believe this is yours." Bruce said, laying the shiny disk on the table.

Selina looked at the small device without interest. "I've never seen this before in my life." She said, looking at Bruce with unwavering bright green eyes.

"You put this in Diana's purse when you bumped into her outside the cafeteria." Bruce said. "It's a pulse signal, right? Blocks out radio waves from the surrounding area. That's why none of our calls were reaching Diana's cell phone."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Selina said dismissively, although a small smirk was tugging at the corners of her lips. "Besides, you've got no proof."

"No, I haven't." Bruce said. "So let me just ask you this. Why did you do it?"

"What, you don't think I was capable of being the good Samaritan for purely altruistic reasons?" Selina asked him mockingly.

"I think you needed better reasons to risk your neck in this business." Bruce said.

"Then I'd say there are still some gaps in your understanding of people." Selina said, still in the mocking tone. "You can't learn everything from books, you know. Let's just say Edward gave me some powerful reasons for helping him."

"So by that you mean he paid you a lot of money to do it?" Bruce asked dryly.

A frown appeared for a moment on Selina's forehead, and she returned her gaze to her cup. "You can believe that if you want, rich boy."

"Would you mind not calling me that?" Bruce said. He was curious to know what exactly Selina had gotten out of the deal. But to find that out, first he had to break her irritating cover of derision.

Selina grinned up at him. "Why? It's the truth, isn't it? You grew up in that castle of yours back in Gotham. You're Gotham's little Richie Rich prince."

"It's not a castle, it's a manor." Bruce corrected her. "And it doesn't have anything to do with what I asked you."

"That's what you think." Selina said. "Staying up in that castle, you didn't see Gotham like I did."

"I have studied Gotham very closely." Bruce retorted.

"Yeah, occasionally going around the city at night in your car." Selina said, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure that gives you a great perspective of how people survive in the poor parts of the city."

"You seem to know a lot about Gotham." Bruce remarked. Breaking the barrier of calm and control was necessary for getting a person to talk, even if it meant angering them. "If I'm rich boy, maybe I should call you street rat. You were running around Gotham's sewers at the time, right?"

Selina's grin disappeared. She looked like he had slapped her. "Yeah, that's true. I am a street rat." She said in a curiously hard voice. "I was running around the holes and back alleys of Gotham trying to stay alive when you were eating out of your gold plate at your castle. Happy now?"

Bruce felt uncomfortable. His words had had a different effect from what he had intended. Emotional manipulation was difficult to control at times. "I'm sorry." He said. "I didn't mean it that way. I was just trying to understand why you helped the Riddler."

"Life for me was a little different from the life you led, Bruce." Selina said, getting up to leave. "I've seen what a hell hole Gotham can become for those who can't protect themselves. That's where I grew up, and there were days I cried myself to sleep wishing I'd wake up and it would all be a dream." Her voice had become very brittle. "Believe it or not, I was willing to help Edward stop the same thing from happening to the children at the orphanage, so that they wouldn't have to live like I did." She stood up and stared at the warehouse for a moment, getting herself back under control. When she turned, she looked the same cynical, brazen girl as before. "I'll see you around, rich boy." She said in her former mocking tone.

Bruce watched her leave. His gaze turned slowly to the coffee cup, and he put it idly on a different spot on the table. He was thinking of another orphan who had lost his parents in the streets of Gotham one dark night. Bruce understood the position of the orphans better than Selina realised...

Diana came out of the hall slowly. She saw Clark leaning against the wall and headed towards him.

"I didn't call the police." She called out to him.

Clark turned and nodded soberly. "I thought that was what you would decide." He said. He looked at her quietly. "No regrets, Diana?"

"Not at the moment." Diana admitted. "Perhaps someday, there will be repercussions, like you said, but for today, we walk away."

"Then don't worry about it anymore." Clark said. "We'll worry about the consequences when that day comes." He turned to watch as the sun sank over the horizon, casting a final bright glow over the sky. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Diana agreed. "It looked beautiful from the orphanage as well."

"The orphanage sounds like an interesting place." Clark said, turning to smile at her.

"It is." Diana smiled back. "I promised Millie I would come and see her when the exams are over."

"That sounds nice." Clark said. They stood watching as the last beams of light faded away, leaving behind darkness and a few stars.

"We should be heading back." Clark said finally. "I just need to call John and the others and tell them what happened first. They were getting pretty worried."

"And I will go tell Bruce what my decision about this Riddler business is." Diana replied. She turned and headed for the cafe, to where Bruce stood next to the coffee table.

"You're letting him do it." Bruce said when she walked up to him. He had known from the first what she would decide.

"The children in the orphanage." Diana said quietly. "They are the ones this would hurt the most. They have to be kept safe. Dak Syde can be dealt with later."

Bruce nodded. "It's over now." He said. "For better or for worse, the decision has been made. No use second guessing it."

"That is true." Diana agreed with a sigh. "We should be heading back now."

"I wanted to ask you something first." Bruce said, his voice growing a little strange. This experience had at least taught him not to take his abilities to be infallible, and had made him see himself in slightly more human terms. A part of him had been avoiding taking any serious steps with Diana, and now he felt he had waited long enough. This was not the perfect opportunity for wooing, but probably the best he would get. At least they were alone for a few minutes.

"I'd like to get to know you a little better, Diana." Bruce said. Diana looked a little surprised with the sudden change in topic, but Bruce kept going. "I want to see if maybe we can be a bit more than friends, take our relationship to a new level." Even to his ears the words sounded a little banal and clichéd, but he felt oddly nervous. He looked at her intently.

"So I was wondering, would you like to go out with me sometime, Diana?" He asked.

To his disappointment, she did not seem too excited. He could not help but think wistfully of Vicky Vale, who had almost fainted from excitement when he had asked her out. But Diana seemed to be hesitating.

"Bruce, I am truly flattered that you would ask me for a date." She said slowly. "But I am very sorry. My mother would not approve me dating anyone. She is very protective of me, and it might hurt her to know I am dating without her permission when she sent me here on her trust."

If she had just said no, Bruce would have let it go. As it was, his brain was almost programmed to think in terms of problems and their resolutions, and when she started listing the reasons, he could not stop himself suggesting solutions from sheer force of habit.

"You will have to take part in these activities at some point in your life, unless you're thinking about becoming a nun." He pointed out. "And it would be safer to start with someone you trust. That way, even if the relationship did not work, at the least the parting would be amicable. No need for the emotional baggage that usually ensues from first time relationships."

"That is true." Diana said. She smiled. "Then I would like to go on a date with you sometime, Bruce."

"Right, well. That's settled then." Bruce said. The two stared at each other, the situation seeming a little anti climatic and awkward. Bruce mentally kicked himself for once again introducing cold logic into what was supposed to have been a romantic moment. They were both glad to hear Clark's footsteps approaching.

"There's nothing else to do here. Let's head back to the college." Clark said. The other two agreed. They were heading towards the Lamborghini when Bruce stopped.

"I have to take care of something else first." He said. "You two wait in the car. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He left them and returned to the warehouse. He stood in the centre and stared around the room at the gloomy surroundings. "Come out, Nygma. It's over now."

"Indeed it is." Edward Nygma said, appearing at the top of the stairs and slowly coming down. "This affair did not pan out like I had planned it, but the result seems to be satisfactory."

Bruce stared at him. "You are still in control of my computer."

"You know who I am, Bruce." Edward shrugged. "I only need your computer for two more hours. If the computer is not back under your control by then, you can find me and turn me over to the authorities."

The two stared at each other. Edward smiled. "Still upset that I was able to fool you?"

"No one can be right every time." Bruce shrugged. "I don't expect myself to be either."

"That is interesting, coming from a perfectionist." Edward said. "But it is good to hear you say that. We all need to be aware of our strengths as well as weaknesses. You know, I never gave you the final riddle. I made it especially for you." He handed Bruce a folded piece of paper. "Good night, Bruce." He left the huge room, heading for the back exit.

Bruce watched him go in silence. He unfolded the piece of paper and saw a single question written across it.

_How long before the darkness takes you?_

Bruce stared at the line for a moment. He crumpled the piece of paper and strode wordlessly out of the silent warehouse, heading back towards his car.

* * *

_**In the comics, the people of New Genesis are a race of elder gods living on the planet close to Darksied's, and are in a state of continual warfare with Apokolips. **_


	14. A Different Perspective

A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE

Bruce stood in front of the mirror in his room, checking his reflection carefully. He was dressed simply yet stylishly in dress pants and his favourite formal jacket. In his pocket were two tickets to the theatre for a movie that had been doing very well at the box office.

It was Saturday, a holiday, and two days after the midterm exams had gotten over. Bruce and Diana had arranged to meet for a date that day. Bruce had thought about taking her to the theatre, but had decided on second thought to take her to lunch instead.

"Hey, Bruce." Clark said, walking into his room just as he had satisfied himself with his reflection. Clark stood and looked at him quizzically. "First time I've seen you all dressed up like this."

"Sometimes, even I care about making a good impression." Bruce said with a self mocking smirk. "Do you have it?"

"Yeah." Clark said. He took out a small disk from his pocket. "John said Nygma was happy to give it to him, because they need all the help they can get. It has all the information there was in the papers about Dak Syde's family fortune, and some that only the police knew about."

"Good." Bruce said. He opened his cupboard and placed the disk inside it. "There's no harm in trying to see if there's any evidence against Dak Syde still around, even if it all happened a long time ago."

"But Dak Syde isn't the type to leave evidence behind."Clark remarked as they walked out of the room. "He's probably covered his tracks completely, after all the time that has elapsed."

"Then at least we can keep an eye on what he does now."Bruce said. "He has to make a slip sometime. And we'll be waiting when he does." He locked the door of his room behind him and pocketed the key.

"So I'll see you later." Bruce said. "Oh, and one more thing." He reached into his pocket. He was feeling generous, and was glad to be able to help Clark out. "These are two tickets for the movie at the Cineplex." He said, handing them to Clark. "I won't be needing them. If you ask Lois to go with you, I'm sure she'll agree."

"Why did you buy two of these?" Clark asked him.

"For me and my date." Bruce said. "Diana" He added, in response to Clark's questioning glance. "Then I decided to take her to lunch instead."

Clark looked amazed. "You mean you and Diana...?"

Bruce shrugged. "We're going to see if we can try for a more serious relationship." He said nonchalantly, buttoning up his jacket. "I'll see you later."

He left Clark holding the two tickets in his hands.

* * *

Bruce parked his Lamborghini outside the college gates. They had arranged to meet there at one o' clock. He stared at the steady stream of students coming out of the college gates to roam the city and enjoy their day off, looking for Diana. She arrived a minute later. She was wearing a beautifully cut blue and white dress. Usually dressed casually in jeans and tops, Diana's clothes aimed more for practicality than on looking good, and now she looked even more feminine and stunning in comparison.

"You look beautiful, Diana." Bruce said when she came up to him.

"Thank you, Bruce." Diana smiled. "You look very handsome as well."

"Thanks." Bruce said. They stared at each other for a moment, a hint of uncertainty on both sides.

"So let's start the date." Bruce said finally, opening the car door for her.

"Thank you." Diana got into the passenger seat and Bruce closed the door behind her. He went over to the driver's seat and got in as well. The car moved smoothly onto the road, and was soon making its way through the traffic.

"I thought we'd go to a restaurant downtown." Bruce said. "I've heard excellent reviews of the place, so I booked a table for us there. It will be a good place to talk."

"That sounds nice." Diana agreed. There seemed no point in beginning any important conversations right then, with horns blaring around them and needing to focus on the traffic. They chatted desultorily about unimportant things until they reached the location.

The restaurant was a small but expensive affair. The emphasis seemed to be more on quality than quantity. The place had a gentle atmosphere of pleasant tranquillity. They were ushered to their table by the Maître de, who handed their menus to them with a bow.

While Diana looked over her menu, Bruce racked his brains to think of something relevant and interesting to talk about, a rare problem for him on dates. What did they talk about in college? No, it was usually Clark who carried on the conversations at those times, damn him. What had he talked about to his previous dates? The number of industrial units his company controlled. That would be unlikely to impress Diana.

"So how were your exams?" He asked finally.

"I think they went quite well." Diana said, looking up from her menu. "And yours?"

"I think I passed." Bruce shrugged. He was tempted to add, "Almost certainly top of my class." but was able to stop himself.

The waiter came to their table with a polite and inquiring look. They put down their menus and gave him their orders. When he had left, the two looked at each other again.

Diana smiled. "So here we are."

"Yeah" Bruce agreed. "Nervous?"

"A little." Diana admitted. "This is my first date." The clear gray eyes stared into Bruce's. "And yours?"

"Er..." Bruce paused. Vicky, Talia, Pamela, the girl who'd been using an assumed name, Silver, Rachel... "Yeah, just about that for me too." He ended a bit lamely.

"So, I believe it is usual on the first date for the people involved to find out more about each other?" Diana said, leaning back in her chair.

"That is usually the case." Bruce agreed. "And I'm willing if you are. There is a lot about you that I don't know."

"And even more that I do not know about you." Diana smiled. "But I am sure you have some theories about me."

"Well, certain deductions are fairly obvious." Bruce said, leaning back as well. "It's clear from your impeccable manners and the quality of your clothes that you come from a wealthy and refined family. You also have the faintest hint of a Greek accent, and judging by your special interest in Greek history, I'd say you have some roots there."

"The islands of Greece were my first home until I was two years old." Diana nodded. "We lived in Heraklion, on Crete Island. The accent is probably because this is how I always talked to my mother and her friends, even when we moved away."

"You are also right about our financial situation." She added. "Our wealth has been passed on in the form of land inheritance on my mother's side of the family, which was invested in several developing industries, with very profitable results. We shifted to Boston when I was three years old. My mother, and sister and I are the last descendants of our family."

"And your father?" Bruce said.

A shadow seemed to cross Diana's face for a moment. She leaned back in her chair and looked at Bruce. "I told you quite a lot about myself." She said lightly. "So why don't you tell me something about yourself now?"

"Fair enough." Bruce inclined his head. He looked at her for a moment. "I'm sorry if I said anything to upset you just now."

"You didn't, Bruce." Diana said. "But every part of my life cannot be related at once."

"Of course." Bruce leaned back in his chair as well. "I'm guessing Clark has already told you certain facts about my childhood."

"Clark told me about the terrible experience you had as a child." Diana said softly. "And I am very sorry, Bruce. I can understand if you don't want to talk about it."

"No, you were honest with me." Bruce said. "You deserve the same from me."

Bruce broke off as the waiter arrived with their food, and there was silence for the next few minutes as the table was arranged with their meal. When the waiter finally left, Bruce smiled at Diana. "How about we eat first?"

Diana agreed, and they concentrated on their meal, chatting about what had happened in their college. The food was excellent, and Bruce was glad he had picked the place.

Finally, the meal was finished and the table cleared, and their desserts placed in front of them. They were left alone again. Bruce leaned back in his chair and stared at Diana.

"My parents were among the wealthiest people in Gotham of their time." Bruce said. "Our family capital had accumulated over centuries, and with some sound investments my father made in the stock market, we got very lucrative contracts with several promising companies."

"My father built WayneCorp, and the industries we owned were collected under it, and those grew both in size and influence. In time, our company became the most powerful in Gotham."

"My parents were very busy people." Bruce continued. "My mother was involved in various charities." He smiled. It was not the sardonic smirk that usually appeared on his face. "I did not get to see her as often as I liked, but I know she loved me. You can always tell."

"And your father?" Diana asked.

"He was a surgeon by profession." Bruce said. "One of the best in Gotham, in fact. That was his real passion, more than Wayne industries. He was always working, and he helped innumerable people with his skill."

"But of course, that obsession meant he had less time to spend at home with his family." Bruce's voice was not sad, but it had become thoughtful. "I don't really recall a lot of times when we were able to do things together."

Bruce looked at Diana. "Which is why that day was so important to me." He said quietly. "I was ten years old at the time. They were playing the mark of Zorro at the end theatre. My mother and father had one of those rare times when they were both free. So it was decided that we would go see it. I was very excited, I remember. I was tremendously impressed by Zorro, and it was a rare chance to be with both my parents at the same time. Unfortunately, that night did not go as planned..."

Bruce fell silent, his brooding eyes fixed unseeingly on the plate before him.

"After the movie, we decided to walk back to our car a few blocks away." He spoke finally, his voice very quiet. "It was a fine night. A very gentle and refreshing breeze was blowing across the streets. We were crossing an alley when it happened."

"A man appeared before us." Bruce's voice had changed. "He had a gun. The police identified him later as Joe Chill. He was a small time thug who used to hold people up for money."

"That's what he wanted that night. He told my parents to hand over their money and jewellery. But I believe he intended to kill us anyway. Perhaps my father understood that. He tried to force the gun away from Chill."

Bruce's voice died away, and he sat staring in front of him. Diana was watching him, her heart filled with sadness and empathy. For a child to see something like that happen in front of him...

"Chill killed them both." Bruce's voice was barely more than a whisper. "He shot my father in his heart. My mother screamed. He tried to take my mother's necklace, and when she struggled, the string broke. The pearls landed in the gutter. Then he shot her as well. He started going through my father's coat. He looked up at me then, and I knew he was going to kill me as well."

"That's when the sound of a police siren came from the street. Chill ran away the second he heard them coming. When they got to us he was gone, and my parents were dead."

Bruce fell silent. For a long time neither of them spoke.

"My uncle Razal Gul found me." Bruce said finally. "He had been appointed my legal guardian. He took me on a holiday directly after the funeral. I do not know what I would have done if I hadn't gone with him. The mixture of anger and helplessness I had been feeling might have made me take some drastic steps." Bruce looked up at Diana. "As it was, I came back a year later, and was able to pick up the pieces of my life again. My uncle had to leave on business, and I stayed at the manor with Alfred."

Bruce fell silent. Diana reached across the table and gripped his arm.

"I am so sorry, Bruce." She said softly. "I can't imagine how terrible that night must have been for you. I am truly sorry I made you dwell on it again."

"There's no need to apologize, Diana." Bruce said. "I can't run away from the past. I have to learn to live with it."

They sat in silence for a moment, looking at each other.

"I can understand why you are afraid of getting close to people." Diana spoke quietly.

"What about you?" Bruce asked. "There was a certain amount of wariness in the way you interacted with everyone when you first came here. Or was I imagining that?"

Diana leaned back again and stared at him intently for a second.

"My father died when I was six years old, a year after my sister was born." She said simply. "I had had an attack of measles, and had been living with my godparents for four years. The last time I saw him was when I was two years old. He had left me and my mother for a year before that, and had never tried to contact us."

Bruce stared at her in shock. "I'm so sorry."

"My mother never talks about him to us." Diana said quietly. "Ever since I can remember she has seemed wary of men. I do not know what happened to cause her to distrust men, and I do not know what my father did that he had to leave." Diana looked at Bruce. "I never got to know him, and that never seemed to bother him. I have to assume he did not care about us."

Bruce said, at a loss for words. "I don't know what to say, Diana."

"There is no need to say anything, Bruce." Diana said soberly. "I made my peace with it a long time ago. I still have so many people in my life who love me, and whom I love. But all I have of my father is a very vague memory."

"It seems like we've all dealt with tragedy in our lives." Bruce said with a sigh.

"Some more than others." Diana said quietly. "John's home was destroyed. His friends, his family were butchered in front of him." She stared at the plate in front of her. "Some of the children I saw in the orphanage were rescued from abusive families, or abandoned at High father's doorstep."

"Childhood can be the worst times to experience these horrors." Bruce said softly. He was thinking of someone in particular. A girl with large, shiny green eyes and a mocking smile. He was remembering the brief moment in which he had seen the smile drop, and the eyes lose their hardness. He was remembering the glimpse he had gained of a frightened child roaming the streets of Gotham, alone and abandoned...

"God, this is becoming depressing." Bruce said, sitting up straighter in his chair. "This is our first date, Diana. We're supposed to be having fun. I'm really sorry, I usually try to show my dates a good time."

"People have different definitions of good times, Bruce." Diana smiled. "We were discussing something important, even if it was a part of the past."

"Right, so how about we talk about the present?" Bruce said. "The purpose of a first date is to find out whether it is worth the while seeing more of the other person romantically."

"But the present is inextricably linked to the past, Bruce." Diana said, shaking her head. "The experiences we have in the past determine how we behave in the present, and even how we see the future."

"That certainly seems to be truth in our case." Bruce said. "You had a problem trusting men, and me..." Bruce gave her a small smile. "Well, I'm not really everyone's cup of tea."

"Would you say that is because of your parent's death?" Diana asked him.

Bruce paused for a moment, feeling a strange surprise at the question. Diana was looking at him intently.

"No" Bruce said. "That day changed me, but the truth is, I was always like this. Clinical minded. More interested in facts and figures than people. Determined, to the point of becoming obsessive." He gazed at Diana. "I'm not selfish enough to blame my parent's death for who I am today."

"There is no need to blame yourself for who you are, Bruce." Diana said.

Bruce grinned. "No? But a lot of the girls I've met want to change me."

"I don't." Diana said simply. "You see life differently than we do, perhaps, but that is not such a bad thing. I can't ask you to change who you are and expect you to be happy with it." She gazed at him. "For instance, from what Clark tells me, you seem very, _very _passionate about keeping Gotham city safe. You've even built a network of associates there to deter crime."

Bruce nodded. "I started the system with Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock." He said. "It's quite efficient in its own way. Although it does hit snags every so often. We had an associate not so long ago called Jean Paul Valley." Bruce smiled at her wryly. "He started using methods which we could not approve of, and things got ugly." He sighed. "It's never easy to maintain order."

Diana was looking at him with a smile. "Most young men of your age are thinking about their careers, their future lives. Not protecting an entire city."

"It's not as simple as that." Bruce said and paused, searching for the right words.

It was difficult to explain his feelings about that city. Even harder to put the feelings into words. Action was what Bruce felt the most comfortable with. _Doing things_, instead of just talking about them.

"I see the evil present in Gotham." Bruce said softly. "Because it really is evil, Diana, there's no other word for it. There are people there who would do anything they can get away with. Men who are slaves to their baser instincts. Those who will murder man, woman or child, who will torture the old and the infirm, who will prey on the weak and the helpless every day. The victims are left in the gutters, and very often, they fall into the same vicious trap of crime and vice as well." _A scared little girl with frightened, large green eyes... A hardened young girl with cynical, large green eyes..._

"But I see hope their too." Bruce said, gazing at Diana. "I see good people, decent people, who do what they can to help. And I know I want to be one of them some day."

Bruce stared down at the table for a moment.

"What I want to do is very different from what you want to do." He said quietly.

Diana looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"You care, Diana." Bruce said, looking up at her. "About everyone. About your family, your friends, even criminals. You genuinely care. I would have had a hard time believing anyone could be so sincere if I hadn't met Clark first." Bruce looked at her and said simply. "You both want to heal the world. Not to punish the guilty, but to heal the injured, even if they are criminals."

Diana stared at him for a moment. "It is the difference between a doctor and a soldier, Bruce." She said quietly. "Both have very different methods of working, but their ultimate aim is the same. To save lives."

"Yeah, I guess that is one way of putting it." Bruce said. "I don't want what happened to me... to happen to any other child in Gotham."

"And so you will be Gotham's knight." Diana said. "For as long as you are needed." She stared at him.

"And where does that leave the people who care about you?" She asked quietly.

Bruce paused. "I can't pretend I know the answer to that question." He said. "My father was a workaholic, and I do believe I've inherited that trait from him." He stared at her. "I know I'm not going to be able to rest until all of Gotham is safe." He sighed wearily. "Even while I admit that that is unlikely to ever happen."

"But you will keep going, Bruce." Diana said. "It is not in your nature to give up, no matter how impossible the odds."

"As long as I can" Bruce said. "No matter where that road leads me." An image of a writing on a piece of paper suddenly flashed through his mind. _How long...?_

Diana was watching him, and she seemed to be able to guess what was going through his mind.

"You are never alone, Bruce." She said gently. "You will always have people who care about you. Clark will never give up on you, and neither will I. Nor will Wally or John or Arthur, or any of the others. And I know there are people in Gotham who will never turn their back on you. We will always support you."

"Even if it takes you away from what you want to do?" Bruce asked.

Diana hesitated. "What do I want to do?"

"I don't know the details." Bruce admitted. "But like I said, Diana, you want to heal the world. Do you want to spend what time you have on just one person?"

"On everyone who needs me." Diana said simply. "But even the strongest people, whether it be physically or emotionally, need help sometimes. Lord knows even I cannot be strong all the time. Even I need help sometimes, just like you do."

"Those are the times Kent comes in handy." Bruce said wryly. Diana laughed.

"Yes, Clark is very strong emotionally." She nodded thoughtfully. "I think that is part of what makes him a good leader."

"Another quality you share with him." Bruce commented. He smiled. "At least there is the warrior spirit we both share."

Diana smiled. "Why thank you."

"It's just a fact." Bruce said. He had been very impressed when he heard how Diana had caught the Riddler. "You followed the rules of combat that day. Always be prepared, use the element of surprise, use what you get from the surroundings to help you win. And not to hesitate when you have your opponent within reach. It's the only way to win a fight."

"It was instinctive." Diana shrugged. "I did what I had to do." She laughed. "I did not realise being warriors was helpful for romance."

"It means I understand a part of you." Bruce shrugged. "Like Clark understands the part of you that wants to see a more hopeful world. A more optimistic world."

"A warrior is what I would be if the situation demanded it, Bruce." Diana said quietly. "But a healer is who I really want to be." She sighed. "You are right, Bruce. I don't like to fight anymore than Clark does. That is what I liked the most about him when I came to this university. I had been led to believe by almost everyone at home that men were violent brutes. Clark proved them wrong." She glanced up at him.

He was staring at her. "So if given the choice, would you rather fight criminals or do something else? Something you consider more worthwhile?"

Diana looked at him. She smiled slowly. "There have been some plans at the back of my mind… a charity centre, a school for poorer people, some hope for the world, perhaps…."

Bruce nodded appreciatively. "You would be better at that than anyone I know." He said with complete sincerity.

"But that is all in the future." Diana said. "We are concerned with the present for now."

"And at present, we both have very different ambitions in life." Bruce said quietly. "Not to mention very different perspectives."

The two stared at each other.

"This isn't going to work, is it?" Bruce said suddenly.

"Will your obsession with Gotham ever end?" Diana asked him with a smile.

"Gotham is mine." Bruce's tone was unyielding. "Mine to look after, mine to protect." He knew it was the one fact of his life that would never be altered. Because he would not allow it to alter. Because he did not want it to alter.

"Then would you prefer I leave my plans and aspirations and come to Gotham to be with you?" Diana looked at him soberly. "I am sorry Bruce, but we are both too stubborn to give up our plans so easily."

"Nor would I want you to." Bruce said quietly. "The path I might someday take… it's not really made for two."

"No matter where it takes you." Diana said.

"No matter where it takes me." Bruce repeated.

Diana stared at him for a moment. She leaned across the table and gripped his hand. "I know it frightens you, the side of your personality that is enamoured with shadows." She said quietly. Bruce did not bother to ask how she knew this. "But it is just a part of you, Bruce. There is also the part that wants so badly to help people. That is the part that has become a part of our group. That is a part that is such a close friend of Clark. And we will never, _never, _leave you to face the darkness alone."

Bruce stared at her, feeling a strange sense of comfort. It was the comfort of knowing he was not completely on his own. A small smile formed on his face. "Even if I want to handle it alone?"

"Even then." Diana laughed. "Your temper is not as terrifying as you seem to think, you know."

"Well, you and Clark are the only ones who're immune to it." Bruce said with a wry frown.

They stared at each other in silence again.

"I don't want to pull you into the darkness with me, Diana." Bruce said.

"You won't." Diana said simply. "I won't let you. Nor will we allow you to disappear into it either."

"But a relationship." Bruce shook his head slowly. "That requires a lot of time and effort. On both sides." He looked up at her again.

"It means giving yourself over to the other person." Diana said quietly. "I am sorry, Bruce, but I will never settle for less." She stared at him. "I respect you Bruce. Out of all the people I have met since coming here, I respect you and Clark the most." She shook her head. "But a relationship is not just about respect." She stayed silent for a long time, staring at him. He did not look away. "I am sorry, but I cannot see this going any further."

Bruce nodded slowly, a strange sense of inevitability in his heart. "Nevertheless, I hope we can still be friends?" He extended his hand.

"Of course, Bruce." Diana said, shaking his hand warmly.

The two stood up slowly and prepared to leave. This was not how Bruce had seen the scene going, yet why was there a feeling at the back of his mind that it seemed strangely... Inevitable. Certain flashes of memory that didn't seem to be coming into focus...

"I hope you don't mind, Bruce, I know you have work to do at the college." Diana was saying. "But I want to visit New Genesis now that the exams are over. So I'll go to the bus stand, and you can go back to the college."

"All right" Bruce agreed. "But do you really think I'll let you go to the bus stand?" He drew out the keys to his Lamborghini. "I have to see a man in suicide slum first anyway. I'll rent a car from there."

Diana smiled, taking the keys. "Thank you Bruce." She looked at his seriously. "I am very sorry this date did not work out..."

"Don't worry about it." Bruce said hastily, raising a hand. "It's good that we cleared this up. And we're still friends."

"Of course." Diana smiled. Her mobile rang in her purse, and she took it out.

"That's probably from Clark." Bruce said. Their dessert had lain in front of them all the while untouched. He looked at the bill the waiter brought and wondered if the standard of tipping in Metropolis was the same as in Gotham. "He said he sent you some message yesterday but his network was delayed or something. All the messages of yesterday are being forwarded today by the company."

"Yes, it is from Clark." Diana said, laughing softly as she read the message. Bruce glanced up at her, reflecting on how Clark seemed to be the only one in their group who could make Diana laugh so easily...

Bruce stopped, looking at Diana with startled eyes. The memories had come into focus. He was remembering certain scenes from the past, and seeing them suddenly in a new light. Diana, who had come to the university filled with suspicion and distrust towards men. Diana, talking to Clark at lunch, her eyes alight with laughter and enthusiasm. Diana, sitting with Clark outside the warehouse watching the sun go down, looking completely relaxed and happy. Perhaps there was a more concrete reason why Diana had not wanted to come on a date with Bruce than because she was afraid her mother would disapprove...

Diana stopped laughing when she saw Bruce staring at her with wondering eyes, and the hint of a blush appeared on her cheeks. "What?" She said a little defensively.

"Just thinking about some things." Bruce said slowly. She waited for him to elaborate, but he continued to simply stare at her in surprise.

"I will see you at the college then, Bruce." Diana said finally, the blush growing on her cheeks.

"Yeah, take care." Bruce said. He watched her leave and sat down slowly on his seat again, absorbing this wholly new angle of the situation.

* * *

Clark sat alone in one of the empty seats in the bleachers of the gigantic football field in the university. He was staring up at the sky filled with clouds of fantastic designs, with shapes so intricate and precise an artist could never hope to do them justice. His thoughts were in a similar kind of swirl, as one idea chased another in his mind.

In his pocket were the two tickets Bruce had given him.

In an hour, Lois would report at the news office. Clark knew he could ask her out, and she would say yes. Wally and Arthur had already been very encouraging in telling him to ask her. It was a gorgeous day, with a cool and refreshing breeze, and just enough sunlight to make the day bright and cheerful. They could go for a picnic first, take a basket to a park, and have their first meaningful conversation outside the newsroom. The entire universe seemed to be conspiring to create the most perfect conditions for wooing. The world and everyone in it seemed to be telling him to go to her. He wondered whether anyone had noticed a small point about this whole business.

He had never actually _said_ he wanted to date Lois.

It seemed like an incredible argument at this point. Ridiculous, even. Yet the fact remained. Not once had he actually told anyone that he wanted to date her.

Bruce had assumed since the first month that he was trying to impress her, and had conveyed as much to the others. And since no one ever argued with Bruce's deductions, everyone else had also assumed it was true.

Clark got to his feet, a strange feeling of restlessness in his heart. He paced up and down the bleachers, staring at the empty seats around him, his mind absorbed in the confusing situation.

When had it become this way? He knew he had been very impressed by Lois when he had first met her. Her dynamic personality, her indomitable spirit, and her generous heart. Then why had those feelings not become something stronger?

He stared out over the field. Despite what romantics liked to believe, soul mates were virtually impossible to find, and the search ended too often in a lifetime of regret. The term itself had come to mean something magical, referring to someone who is the other half of your soul, whom you were predestined for since your creation.

In reality the term soul mate had a much simpler meaning. It simply pointed towards someone who understood you very well, someone you felt completely comfortable around, because you knew that they saw the world from the same perspective as you did. The possibility of meeting someone like that was...

No, soul mates were an impossible hope. Clark was an optimist, but he was also a lot more practical and modest than his friends in some matters. He saw himself as an everyday person, and knew that in real life, people found someone, and then worked hard to make the relationship work with them.

Clark knew Lois had flaws, but he himself was not perfect either. He also knew that they could work through the clashes in their personalities and make it work. That is what relationships were about, compromise and understandings.

Then why wasn't he considering having that with Lois?

Clark stood rooted, staring unseeingly at the view in front of him, as his thoughts drifted to past events and future scenarios...

He remembered that he had not initially intended to come to Metropolis. He was supposed to have studied in Smallville University. It was only on the chance of his father becoming Mayor that it had been decided suddenly to send him to this university instead.

Yet the desire to see Metropolis had always been there. Half formed plans had been present in his mind. To get a job in the big city, something to help him with his writing skills. He might even have worked alongside Lois than, like he was now. And then...?

Clark frowned, as his mind slowly came to grips with the realisation. He knew he was very close to the heart of the situation now. He continued to gaze unseeingly over the field even as he searched his soul.

Was that the way his life was supposed to have gone? Move to Metropolis, get a job, meet Lois, fall in love, and then marry her? Then what had happened? Why was it different now?

Clark stood motionless, feeling as though some irresistible force was holding his body immobile even as his brain shifted gears. His mind was coming to the revelation of something that deep down inside he had already known, but which still carried with it something of wonderment. Yes, something had happened. Something that had changed the entire scenario of how things were supposed to have happened.

He had met Diana.


	15. In Her Absence

IN HER ABSENCE

John Jones sat alone on the pavement overlooking the football fields. It was a Sunday, three days after the mid term exams had gotten over. All his friends were involved in their own pursuits. Wally was getting back to the track field after a week's hiatus for the exams. Kyle was working on his painting. Arthur was in his room. John did not know where Clark, Bruce or Diana were.

He was gazing over the fields, and his thoughts were of a deep and disturbing nature. His eyes caught a figure moving over the field, and he saw Bruce coming towards him.

"Wally told me you were here." Bruce said when he had reached him.

"Good afternoon, Bruce." John said. "It seemed too pleasant a day to waste in the hostel. Would you like to sit down?"

"No, I'm fine." Bruce stood leaning against a pillar and stared out over the field as well.

John glanced at him. There was a preoccupied frown on Bruce's gaze as he stared fixedly at one point on the field.

"Is anything the matter, Bruce?" John asked.

"No." Bruce said. He did not elaborate further.

The two sat in silence for a few moments.

"I had a date with Diana yesterday to see if we could try for a relationship." Bruce said abruptly. He disliked long winded explanations.

"Ah" John nodded. "I trust you both had a pleasant date?"

Bruce looked at him. "If I wanted to waste time on banalities I would have gone elsewhere, John."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" John asked. "You already know the outcome of the date."

"And I get the feeling that you do, too." Bruce looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"I had my thoughts." John shrugged. "People are easy to read. Not their innermost thoughts, perhaps, but personalities make for fascinating studies."

"We decided it wouldn't work." Bruce said. He gazed out over the fields again.

"I truly am sorry, Bruce." John said gently. "Did it become unpleasant?"

"No, but..." Bruce hesitated. "There was a strange feeling of inevitability about It." he looked at John. "And I'm still not sure why."

"Did you think you could make it work with Diana?" John asked him.

Bruce frowned. "Obviously. Why else would I ask her out?"

"Because she is all the things we admire in females." John said calmly. "You had the completely human desire to get closer to a girl as beautiful and kind and intelligent as Diana is. But I repeat, did you think you could make the relationship work?"

"We could have tried." Bruce said resolutely.

John looked at him. "Correction. _She_ would have tried."

Bruce sighed in exasperation. "I am not that misanthropic."

"Yes, you are." John said. "Bruce, can you really believe yours and Diana's natures are compatible?"

"Too much compatibility isn't a good thing, you know." Bruce said.

"Neither is too little." John said. "You might believe you only see the good side when you are dating someone. Unfortunately, In a relationship, both the good and the bad sides of the people involved come out, and if you are serious about the other person, you have to learn to live with it."

"You're talking about conflict like it's a bad thing." Bruce said, shaking his head. "But they are what make the relationship more interesting."

"For twelve year olds with no experience in real relationships." John said calmly. "For a mature person, however, the point is to be with someone they can understand and depend on. And Diana is a very mature person."

"So you're saying she wants no excitement at all?" Bruce said, his eyebrows raised.

"I'm saying she wants much more than that." John said simply.

"It still sounds too boring to me." Bruce said. "A relationship needs some sparks."

John looked at him wryly. "I'm confused. You are referring to two very different things. Are you talking about an actual, real world relationship, or some romance novel where the hero and heroine talk in 'passionate whispers' and 'seize each with desperate need, there eyes afire with desire'?".

Bruce stared at him.

"I have read a few mills and boons." John said, averting his eyes. "It is all a part of understanding people." He said defensively.

"But that is what I mean." He continued in a normal voice. "How we like to view relationships in our minds, is very different from what actually works." John glanced at Bruce. "Can you tell me any couple you know of, who seem to have a successful marriage? Someone you can look at and say, 'I wish I have that someday'?

Bruce stared at John, thinking. He did not really know anyone who fit that description. He wanted to say he did not know any old couples. But then an answer came to his lips so easily he almost didn't have to think about it.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent."

John nodded appreciatively. "Clark's parents." He said. "I expected as much."

"They love each other." Bruce said simply. It seemed so easy to say it. Yet what Bruce had seemed between them seemed nothing short of miraculous. Mr. Kent was no longer young and dashing, and Mrs. Kent was no longer youthful and pretty, yet the love was still apparent between them. To find something like that was...

"Would you say their relationship is boring, and clichéd and hum drum?" John smiled ironically. "Or would you consider them lucky to have found each other, and to have been able to grow old together? That is the main point which people usually miss, Bruce. They tend to focus on the starting point of the relationship, when it's new and fresh and exciting. _Sparks_, as you mentioned, whereas in real life, it is what comes afterwards that is important. And if you're lucky, you get it for the rest of your life."

"Opposites attract." Bruce retorted.

John stared at him. "What on Earth does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing" Bruce shrugged. "I've heard it can apply to relationships."

"I see." John's lips twitched. He was trying not to smile. "I'm glad an entire mature, lasting relationship can be summed up by a principle used in studying magnets." He grinned. "Then why stop there? If I recall correctly, an objects tends to remain at rest or in motion unless a force is applied."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing concrete outside a science textbook, just like the expression you used." John said. "Again, we are talking about what relationships mean in fiction, and in reality. That opposites attract idiom is an excellent situational contrivance when the brooding hero who likes to be left alone meets the heroine full of youthful dreams and a definite view on how her life should go. At first they don't like each other, since they come from different worlds, but they have the rest of the story to understand each other and fall in love." John shook his head. "In real life, however, the two have to come to terms with the consequences of their whirlwind courtship afterwards. The heroine finds that the new neighbourhood she moved into for her love's sake is completely alien to everything she was familiar with since childhood. The hero finds himself craving the freedom he had before marriage. The plans they had for their lives before they met each other suffer, and they realise that their conflicting personalities, which made such excellent fodder for the sake of making the story exciting, is not so wonderful when it comes to living together for the rest of their lives." John stared over the field again. "If they're lucky, and very, _very _accommodating, they make vast changes in their lives and learn to live together. But they realise that real life is very different from a fairy tale romance."

Bruce was staring at John. "That's a lot more cynicism than I was expecting from you."

"Human nature is consistent in its delusions." John said, shaking his head sadly. "For all your cynicism, Bruce, you are just as much of an idealist as Clark and Diana. The difference is that you focus on the black while they focus on the white in a given situation. That is one of the major reasons you have had so many girlfriends, but very few meaningful relationships."

"In my defence, girls do want to be with me, one reason or the other." Bruce smirked self mockingly. "Is it my fault I'm so irresistible?"

"No, It certainly isn't." John agreed. "But Diana would not have agreed to go out with you just because you seem dark and mysterious, like other females do. She did it because she respects you."John looked at him quietly. "Unfortunately, in most cases, respect isn't enough."

"So why would she?"

"If she thought you needed to be saved, if she thought she could help you." John said. He paused, then added lightly, without looking at him. "And if she hadn't met Clark."

Bruce shot him a look. "So you know about that, too."

"I see things." John shrugged. "I infer. I have spent a great deal of time on my skills."

Bruce stared into the distance. "It came as a surprise to me."

"Why?" John said.

Bruce paused. It seemed like a curiously hard question to answer. He could say because of Lois, but that wasn't it.

"They seem like brother and sister." He said finally.

John looked puzzled. "What on Earth makes you think they are brother and sister?"

"They think alike." Bruce shrugged. "Agree on everything, have the same outlook on life."

"From that you took that they are related?" John still looked puzzled. "She comes from the highest strata of society, he is from a farm. She wants to change the world. He just wants to live an ordinary life, and help the people he can along the way. She accepts the privileges her high place in society grants her; he refuses to believe he could be a good leader of men. They seem related?"

"Just the feeling I had." Bruce said impatiently. "It's just that I never saw the two try to be more than friends."

"That is because of Lois." John said. "Diana will never throw herself in front of any man, Bruce. No matter what feelings she has for Clark, she would not dream of saying anything as long as she thinks he is with Lois."

"But Diana and Clark are not going to work out, either." Bruce said.

"Why not?" John asked.

"Clark wants Lois." Bruce pointed out.

John stared at him. "Yes" He said, gazing back over the field. "There is that, of course..."

There seemed nothing more to say. The two again gazed over the field. Each busy with his own thoughts.

"Well, I have work to do." Bruce said, standing up abruptly from his leaning position. "I'll see you around, John." He turned to leave, then turned back. "Mind keeping this between up?"

"Of course, Bruce." John said. "Take care." Bruce nodded and left.

John was left sitting alone again.

A short while later, John saw Clark making his way slowly towards him. Something about his expression told John what was on his mind.

"_Since when did I become the love guru on campus?" _John thought with a sigh.

"Good afternoon, Clark." John called out cheerfully. "You may ask me two questions for one dollar."

Clark looked confused. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." John said. "How may I help you?"

"I just wanted to hang out for a while." Clark said. He took up position leaning against the pillar and stared out over the field. "It's pretty peaceful here."

"Very" John agreed. Again the two gazed out over the field without saying anything.

"Funny how just standing around thinking can make you see the most familiar things in a totally different way." Clark said, gazing over the field.

"Introspection is the key to understanding ourselves." John agreed. "Whether it be our ambitions, our self delusions." He leaned back. "Romance..."

Clark looked at him. He grinned ruefully. "Why am I not surprised you already seem to know what I am here for."

"The Weather seems to be affecting everyone the same way today." John smiled. "You aren't the only one to have discussed that topic today."

Clark stared over the fields again. "I'm just feeling a bit confused..."

"About Lois or Diana?" John asked.

Clark paused for a moment. "Diana."

"At least you have understood your feelings." John said.

"It came as a surprise to me." Clark admitted. "And I'm really not sure what to do about it. It's just so sudden."

"The realisation might have come to you earlier if you saw Diana as someone accessible, and did not see her as quite so perfect." John remarked.

Clark flushed. "I don't think of her as perfect, John."

"Yes, you do, Clark." John said quietly. "You probably don't notice it, but there is an almost reverential air to how you talk to her. You don't joke with her like you do with Bruce, or with any of the rest of us. It's always about making _her_ laugh." John glanced at him. "Can you tell me any of Diana's flaws?"

Clark stared back. "She doesn't have any."

John laughed. "You see?"

A reluctant grin appeared on Clark's face. "It's still true."

"Clark, Diana is my friend, and I'm glad I know someone like her, but that does not mean I believe her to be flawless." John said. "Diana can be very stubborn. She would not have gone to that man Rinkle to get the reform repealed if any of the rest of us had asked her to. She has a temper that can flare easily when she sees something wrong going on. She accepts the brutal side of life more than you do, something she has in common with Bruce, something you have a problem with."

Clark was staring at John. "Really pay a lot of attention to us, don't you?"

"Isn't that the reason why you are talking to me and not to Arthur or Wally or the others?" John replied with a shrug.

Clark nodded. He leaned back against the pillar and gazed again over the field. "But you're wrong, you know. About Diana being a warrior like Bruce."

"What she did to the Riddler showed..."

"That's not what I meant." Clark interrupted him. "Ever heard of Shaolin monks and Spartan warriors?"

"I have studied their history." John nodded.

"Right, then you'll understand what I mean." Clark said. "Spartan warriors lived in Ancient Greece. They were taught the importance of war in their lives from the age of seven, and were taught to think like a warrior at all times. They gloried in warfare. They were the consummate fighters."

"But the Shaolin monks were different." Clark continued. "They were hard core pacifists, and practiced fighting as a form of self defence. They fought to protect their homes against invading armies, but only as a last resort. The samurai and the monks were equally dangerous. The difference was that the monks fought because they had to, not because they wanted to."

"That's the difference between Bruce and Diana." He finished. "Bruce is like the Spartan. The consummate warrior. He enjoys it. It's a way of life for him." He stared at John. "But Diana is like the Shaolin monk. She will fight if it's absolutely necessary. But she hates violence as much as I do."

"Spirit of peace and truth." John remarked.

Clark grinned. "I wouldn't go as far as that, perhaps, but yeah, something along those lines."

"I think you are right." John said thoughtfully, his eyes on the field again. "But you do know her a lot more intimately than I do."

Clark stared over the field. "What I don't understand is, what I'm supposed to do now."

John said nothing. It was not in his place to divulge private information about other people. Besides, Clark would hear it soon enough from Bruce or Diana.

"At least you know your mind now, Clark." He said at last.

"Not much use now that she's going out with Bruce." Clark sighed.

"You will tell her how you feel?" John asked him.

"Of course not." Clark said. "If those two are happy together, it's not my place to break that up now."

"Well, then" John said, returning back to surveying the scenery. "Let's hope things work out for all three of you."

* * *

Kyle Rayner sat staring at the screen of his laptop as the site opened on the web. He fingered the ring on his middle finger absent mindedly as he waited. He got up slowly and strolled over to his bag to get his pen out.

"Kyle?"

Wally's voice coming from the distance startled him. For a minute he froze. Then he yanked the curiously shaped ring off his finger and stuffed it hurriedly into his bag before Wally got to him.

"I'm over here, Wally." He called out.

Wally came up to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Just thinking about a new landscape painting." Kyle said quickly. "What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm done with the track, and I was just feeling bored. I always feel at a loose end after exams get over." Wally strolled over to his laptop. "What's this?"

"Nothing" Kyle said hastily. "I was just checking my account." He quickly exited the website and opened Facebook. "Let's go eat, I'm starving."

He put his laptop in his bag and swung it over his shoulder. The two made their way over to the cafeteria. It was almost six at noon, and the cafeteria still had many hungry students inside it.

"That was a website about green lanterns you had opened, right?" Wally asked.

"Yeah, I was told to do a research paper on them." Kyle said quickly. "But I couldn't find anything useful."

"Yeah well, they're supposed to be very hush hush." Wally said. They took their plates and headed to the table where Arthur was sitting eating. "Hey, Arthur, you know anything about green lanterns?"

"Only the usual" Arthur shrugged. "Very powerful organisation dedicated to helping people."

"That's all I know too." Wally said. "Hey Bruce." he called out as Bruce left the counter holding his food. Bruce spotted them and came over to their table. "We want information on the green lanterns."

"Very old organisation started by three brothers." Bruce said, setting his plate down and picking up his spoon. "Very particular about who they choose, but focus on younger people who are willing to help change the world. Members are meant to be examples for others, and are supposed to live simple lives of service. A badge of identification is a lantern shaped green ring the members wear, and a motto they all promise to abide by. Longest day, hardest night. Something like that."

"Brightest day, darkest night." Kyle corrected him. The others looked at him. "I found it on the website."

"It's supposed to be really difficult getting in, isn't it?" Wally asked.

"Very" Bruce agreed. "They have very stringent requirements which need to be met."

"Yeah, yeah" Kyle said in a strangely defeated tone. "They're all amazing and perfect and the very best, and few people deserve to get in. I get it."

The others looked at him curiously but as he did not elaborate, they did not say anything. John Jones came up to their table with his plate and joined in as well. The topic shifted to the exams and their individual performances as they ate their food.

"Clark" Arthur called out. Clark had been sitting in the opposite corner of the room out of their line of vision eating alone. He deposited his tray on the counter and came over to sit with them.

"Where have you been, man?" Wally asked.

"Just thinking about some things in private." Clark said. He looked over at Bruce. He wanted to ask about his date with Diana, but did not think it would be wise in front of everyone else. The conversation continued along academic lines, mostly by Wally and Arthur and John.

"Where's Diana?" Arthur asked suddenly. "I haven't seen her for days."

Both Clark and Bruce started. Bruce looked at Clark furtively. Clark looked at Bruce furtively. They both looked at John furtively. They both looked away hurriedly.

"She has gone to visit one of her friend's houses in Metropolis." John said serenely, ignoring the looks that were being thrown around.

Wally sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I always plan a bunch of things to do after the exams get over, and then I don't feel like doing them."

"College has been pretty slow since the exams." Kyle said. "We could go out of town."

"We could go to the beach." Wally said suddenly. "We could have a party there or something."

"That's a good idea. Only let's do it on my father's yatch." Arthur said enthusiastically. "We could do swimming and snorkelling. And have a party on deck."

"Sounds like fun." Clark said. "But we can't do it just yet. We still have to be shown the answer sheets and everything."

"Say next month." Kyle suggested. "We could plan everything properly by then."

"Including whom we invite." Wally said. "It won't be that much fun if there are too many of us. Those kind of parties always get out of hand. Just a few of the guys we know, and Diana and Lois and Cat and some of the other girls."

"Do you have a crew on the boat as well?" Bruce asked Arthur.

"No need." Arthur said, waving his hand. "I've learnt to handle the yatch since I was fourteen. Besides, you said you knew something about boats too."

"A little." Bruce nodded. "The basics, anyway."

"What will we bring with ourselves for the trip?" Clark asked Arthur.

"The ship will be fully stocked with fresh food and swimming gear." Arthur assured him. "You don't have to bring anything. Of course, you'll want to bring your own swimming trunks or whatever swimsuit the girls will want to wear."

The group paused, as the image of Diana in a swimsuit ran through their minds.

"We should do it on a weekend." John said, breaking the spell that had fallen over the table. "Swimming is very tiring business. We'll need a day to recover."

"Right, so on a weekend some time next month." Wally sat up enthusiastically. "This could definitely be fun."

"Let's keep it between ourselves for now." Clark said. "Or it won't take long for every person we've ever talked to to invite themselves to the party."

"We can go underwater caves exploring." Arthur said, his eyes shining. "It's been so long since I've been in the water."

"Everyone here can swim right?" Wally asked. Everyone nodded.

"And we can watch over the ladies to make sure they don't have any problems." Arthur said with a grin.

"Hey, they don't have to go in the water if they don't want to." Kyle said. "Anyway, girls are usually more keen on sunbathing or paddling when they go to the beach. They might just want to lie around on deck."

The entire company paused, as the image of Diana in a swimsuit ran through their minds.

"Well, I have a painting to get back to." Kyle said as he rose, breaking them out of their trance again. "I'll see you guys later."

"I'll come too." Wally said, rising up as well. They both left together.

"And I'll go ask my father about this yatch business." Arthur said, rising to his feet and stretching. "See you all tomorrow."

John, Bruce and Clark were left alone at the table. John glanced at Clark, then at Bruce.

"I also have some business to attend to." John said brightly, rising from the table. "Good night, both of you."

"'night, John." Clark said, while Bruce nodded. John left. Clark looked at Bruce, who was still eating his food.

"So how'd your date with Diana go?" Clark asked him.

Bruce stared at his plate for a moment. "Didn't work." He said.

"I'm sorry, man." Clark said seriously, his voice sincere. "Did she say why?"

"We both want different things." Bruce said. There was also the other reason that he had deduced, but if Diana wanted Clark to know about that, she would tell him herself. "Did you take Lois to that show?"

Clark shook his head. "I wasn't feeling up to it, so soon after the exams." He did not add that the main reason was his newly discovered feeling for the girl whom Bruce liked.

Clark shook his head wryly, smiling at Bruce. "I've been told we're like the two opposite ends of the spectrum, the well meaning boy scout from the farm, and the brooding and mysterious billionaire, but we're neither of us that hot when it comes to romance."

"Women." Bruce shrugged. "They're just so damn illogical. It's useless trying to deduce their thoughts."

"Too true." Clark smiled. "Well, I'll see you around." He said, rising from his seat. "I promised my mother I'd call today. Good night, Bruce."

"Good night, Clark."

Clark left the cafeteria alone, thinkiing. The date had not worked out. Did that mean Diana was available? But what if the real reason that it hadn't worked was that she liked some other guy. After all, she had told Clark that this was the first time she had met boys her own age since leaving her school, where she had gained the impression that all men were chauvinistic pigs. There were so many decent guys in the college. Was it really so hard to believe that she'd met someone in the university who had proven her original views wrong? Someone who would make a strong enough impression on her to convince her that all men weren't only interested in using women?

"Clark!" Clark turned at the sound of his name to see Lois coming towards him.

"Hi, Lois." Clark smiled. "How were your exams?"

"Okay, I think." Lois shrugged. "History was a disaster. I never could remember all the dates." She waved a paper in front of him. "Did you see this?"

Clark took the paper. It contained a brief report of a robbery that had taken place in a bank in Metropolis. The police was almost certain it was an inside job.

"Mr. Dak Syde owns that bank." Lois said. "I've been going through some old papers, and I've noticed that he always to be connected with these type of activities in some way."

"It's possible." Clark said slowly. He did not want to tell Lois what he knew about the dean. Lois had a strange habit of falling right in the middle of the most dangerous situations, and one day, her luck might run out. "I'm sure the police is doing everything they can to get to the bottom of it."

"Well, I'll be keeping an eye on things here, and see if I can find out anything about him." Lois said decisively.

"I'm sure you will." Clark grinned. "But you might want to be carefull. Dak Syde doesn't seem the type of person you want to get on the wrong side of."

"I'll be fine." Lois said dismissively. She took back the paper and looked at Clark. "Where are you off to?"

"I have to call my parents." Clark said.

Lois grinned. "That sounds like you all right." She said. "I thought you and your whole group would be out celebrating or something."

"Everyone is busy." Clark shrugged. "Wally and Kyle are busy with their own work. Bruce would have to be threatened at gun point to get him to have fun. Arthur and John are in their rooms, and Diana's gone to one of her friend's house in Metropolis."

"I thought Diana was only friends with you guys." Lois said in surprise. "I don't see her talking to many people."

"She's pretty reserved." Clark shrugged. "Besides, guys tend to get pushy if a pretty girl talks to them too much."

"Well, it's good to see her doing something normal for a change." Lois said. "No offence, Clark, but she seems a little unreal sometimes. All those guys staring at her all the time, and it's like she doesn't even notice them. It's pretty wierd."

"I'd say she's got taste." Clark said with a grin as he walked away. "I'll see you around, Lois. Maybe you and Diana could go to the gym to exercise together someday, and you could point out to her all the boys who stare at her."

Lois rolled her eyes and made her way to the cafeteria, poring over the paper. She put it in her bag with a sigh, and looked up to see Diana walking towards the cafeteria as well.

"_Exercise_" Lois thought scathingly, watching the tall girl walk gracefully towards the cafeteria. "_Doesn't look like she needs it, with those legs. Why doesn't she just join the swim team?"_

Lois paused, as the image of Di-

_**okay, this is getting weird. I better stop now. **_


	16. First Date

FIRST DATE

A Saturday found Wally and Kyle lying on the bench in the gardens on campus, staring up at the sky.

"So it's been decided for the Saturday three weeks from now?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah" Wally confirmed. "Arthur has arranged to get the yatch stocked and ready. And then we get plenty of time to prepare for the trip."

It was two weeks after the plan for the party on the yatch had originally been proposed. College and exam results had prevented the group of friends from getting together at an earlier date for the party, but finally the date was less than a month away.

"It'll be good to relax after all that's happened this term." Wally sighed.

"I know, it has been a weird few months." Kyle agreed.

"Hey guys." A voice called out cheerfully. The two turned to see a startlingly thin student with large ears and a larger grin coming towards them.

"Hey, Eel." Wally responded. "No classes?"

"Not for the rest of the day." Eel O'Brian said cheerfully, settling down next to them on the grass. He watched with great interest as a group of girls walked past them. "Nothing to do now except look around now." He turned to leer at another group of girls sitting nearby.

Wally and Kyle and the others had become acquainted with Eel only recently. None of them were really sure what his subject was, or whether he was even a student of the university. The one thing they did know was that he was acquainted with many of the more dubious elements of the college, and of metropolis. It was quite possible he himself was involved in activities which were not of a strictly legal nature.

Strangely enough, it was Bruce who had introduced Eel to their group. Since then Eel had considered himself a part of the group, and was always delighted to see them, except the times when he was staring at Diana, when he would have preferred to have been alone with her. But despite the absence of both delicacy and refinement from his manners, they knew he was essentially a decent person.

"So, I heard you were all planning a party or something?" Eel said hopefully, turning to Wally and Kyle. Even his ears were wriggling hopefully. Eel possessed extraordinary control over his body, and could independently move any part of his skinny frame. Why he would want to do something which was so disturbing to witness was another matter.

"It's not decided yet." Wally said noncommittally. He was uncertain as to whether O'Brien should be invited or not. It was highly unlikely that Eel's social instincts already precariously perched on the edge of rowdiness could stand the sight Diana and Lois and Cat in their swimsuits.

"Oh, well." Eel said with a sigh, and went back to staring around the campus. "So where's the rest of your group?"

"By group, you mean Diana?" Wally asked.

"Well, yeah." Eel said. "I don't give a damn about the others, but it wouldn't have seemed polite to say so out loud."

"Yeah, tact is the first thing people notice about you." Wally said, as Eel ogled another girl who walked past them.

"Diana's gone to visit New genesis again." Kyle supplied. "Clark's gone with her. Arthur's got extra classes. John has gone to the city to visit someone. And Bruce is cooped up in his room."

"It'd take lot to keep me inside on a day like this." Kyle added, stretching. "I wish I'd gone with Clark and Diana. Might have been interesting going to New Genesis."

"Not sure they would've liked it." Wally said.

Kyle looked at him, struck by the strangeness in his voice. "What does that mean?"

Wally grinned at him. "John told me something a few days ago when I was talking to him about bringing dates to the party. At least, he's too proper to actually tell me, but he did draw my attention to certain points about those two. It made me realise a few things."

"Really?" Kyle said in surprise. "Clark and Diana?" He turned back slowly. "Man, I thought both Arthur and Bruce liked her too."

"Along with most other guys in this place." Wally said. "The point is, who does she like?"

"Well, I'm happy for them." Kyle said, even as Eel looked intensely disappointed.

"Aw, man. I didn't know Clark was after her too." Eel groaned. "And I knew I could've gotten her to go on a date with me if I'd just gotten a little time to get to know her better."

Kyle and Wally stared at him in silence for a moment, then went back to staring into the distance without making any comments.

* * *

That Saturday was a holiday in New Genesis. The caretakers and their young charges had been taking it easy. It was a day meant for lazing around in the sun.

Millie was hunting through the gardens in search of her cat, which had once again disappeared, probably in search of a suitable napping place. She scanned the shaded area behind some tall bushes hopefully.

"Looking for Toby again?" A voice said from behind her, and she turned to see Diana Prince smiling at her.

"Diana!" She cried out happily, rushing forward to hug the tall girl. "I thought you'd forgotten about your promise to come here today."

Diana laughed. "I am sorry, Millie. I was showing a friend some of the sights around this part of the city, and we got a little late." She said, returning the hug. "He is parking the car outside right now. It's an expensive car that we have borrowed from a friend, so he wants to make sure it's safe."

"Well, now you're here, we can go to my room and read the book you gave me." Millie said, stepping back. Her face clouded over. "Just as soon as I find Toby. I really don't know where he's gone this time; he's not in any of his usual places."

"Well, I and my friend will help you look, and I am sure we will find him." Diana said soothingly. "But first I need to talk to high father about some donations my mother wishes to make to New Genesis. Is he in his office?"

"Yeah, you go talk to him, and I'll see if I can find Toby in the classrooms." Millie said, turning towards the front of the complex. "I'll come find you as fast as I can."

"If you find a man named Clark Kent at the front, tell him to come to the office too." Diana called out to her. Millie nodded and waved as she ran off.

The little girl made her way to the front of the classrooms, checking the windows and doors. They were all locked and bolted. Some of the caretakers and children were milling around but no one had seen the kitten.

Millie made her way to the last classroom and bent down on her hands and knees to peer through the crack at the bottom. She could not see anything stirring inside the room.

"Well, this is certainly a new type of welcome." An amused voice said in front of her. Startled, she whipped her head up to see a very tall and broad shouldered young man looking down at her with a quizzical smile.

She got up quickly and rose to her full height, which still wasn't much compared to the young man. He bent down until he was at eye level with her.

"Hello" The young man said politely. "Could you tell me where I might find The High father's office? I'm supposed to meet a friend there."

"Are you Diana's friend?" Millie asked with a slight stammer.

The stranger's face broke into a warm smile. The twinkling eyes reminded her of high father's. "So you know Diana? Then you're probably Millie. It's very nice to meet you. My name is Clark Kent." He held out his hand and shook the little girl's tiny hand gravely. Millie felt her first bout of unexpected shyness wearing off.

Clark gestured to the classroom. "Were you looking for something?"

"My cat Toby." Millie said. "He's gone off to sleep somewhere and now I can't find him."

"Well, we'll look for him and I'm sure we'll find him soon." Clark said, straightening up to his full height. "This is a pretty nice place you've got here. Must be fun to play here with all your friends."

"Yeah, it's really fun when we're all together." Millie said with a smile, taking his hand and leading him away from the classrooms. "Come on, Clark, I'll show you where High Father is. Maybe he's seen Toby. I'm sure High Father wants to meet you after all the nice things Diana told us about you."

"Diana told you nice things about me?" Clark asked as he fell into step behind her.

"Yeah, lots of things." Millie said carelessly, looking around the grounds in search of Toby. "Like how kind and generous and funny you are, and how you're always ready to help everyone, and always treat everyone with respect."

There was a gleam in Clark's eyes which Millie did not notice. "Yeah, well. Diana says nice things about everyone." He said in a neutral voice. "She's a nice girl." He restrained himself from going more thoroughly into the topic.

They arrived at the gardens with Millie giving Clark the tour of the complex. Diana was talking to High father in the garden.

"High Father." Millie called out, jogging up to him, leading Clark by his hand. "Have you seen Toby anywhere?"

"As is usually the case in this weather, Millie, I have not." High father said, turning to her with a smile. "Toby is probably fast asleep in some shady corner, and it would take nothing less than an earthquake to bring him out of his hiding place."

"Oh, well, I'll find him, sooner later." Millie sighed. "This is Diana's friend Clark."

Clark stepped forward to shake the High Father's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." he said. "I really admire the work you're doing here."

"Thank you, Clark. It is a pleasure to meet you as well." High father said with a warm smile. "We need all the help we can get, and I'm much obliged for the state provided infrastructural upgrades that Diana tells me you've convinced your father to grant to New Genesis."

"Just trying to do my bit." Clark said with a smile.

"And you have my gratitude for it." High father said. "Well, I have some work to do, and I'm sure Millie has a lot planned for your visit." he added with a smile at the little girl. "So I will take your leave now. And Diana, please thank your mother from me for her most generous contribution."

"Of course, High Father." Diana replied with a smile. High Father left the three, and Clark looked at Diana. "You're right. He does seem pretty nice."

"He is." Millie affirmed. "He's the nicest man I've ever met." She looked at Diana. "What do you want to do now?"

"Well, I did say we would help you search for Toby." Diana said.

"Clark probably wants to do something more fun." Millie said, looking up at him doubtfully.

"Cat hunting sounds like fun." Clark said with a grin. "And you can give me a proper tour of the place while we're at it."

"That's true." Millie brightened. "Come on, we go this way." She led them down the garden path to the other end.

They searched the grounds carefully, and finally found the kitten in the topmost branch of a tree close to the kitchens. It was obviously unable to get down, and had begun to mewl plaintively.

"How did it even get up there?" Millie said in amazement.

"Probably from the kitchen window." Clark commented. "If someone surprised it out of the kitchen, it could have shinned up the tree in fright, and now it can't get down."

"Do you have a ladder, Millie?" Diana asked. "We will need to bring Toby down somehow."

"The ladder broke last night when Scott was fixing the antennae on the roof." Millie said anxiously, staring up at Toby. "We won't get a new one until tomorrow."

The kitten again mewed plaintively. He had fallen asleep in a comfortable groove in the branches, and had only just realised the height at which he was stuck. Toby was regretting the sudden and unexpected agility he had displayed in shooting up the tree when the cook had appeared behind him in the kitchen.

"Well, I guess there's only one thing to do." Clark said, folding back the sleeves of his shirt and measuring the distance between the branches of the tree. "Hang on to those for me, will you?" He handed over his mobile and wallet to Diana.

"What are you doing, Clark?" Diana asked in amazement.

Clark grinned at her. "I may not be as agile as Bruce, but I have climbed my fair share of trees on the farm." He said. He grabbed the first branch.

And before Diana could protest, he was on his way. He climbed steadily, being careful to test every branch before resting his weight on it.

Finally, he reached the final branch, and saw Toby sitting at the end of it. The kitten retreated hastily, looking at him warily.

Clark leaned in to study the kitten. "Okay, cat. I don't know you, and you don't know me. But I know you want to get back to Millie, and there's a girl down there whom I really don't want to make a fool of myself in front of. So how about we keep the biting and scratching to a minimum?"

He brought out a hand slowly. The kitten retreated further back, and opened its tiny mouth in a snarl.

"Easy, Battle Cat." Clark muttered. He continued to advance forward. Long experience on the farm had given him an understanding with animals and how to handle them, and his naturally gentle disposition had made the animals trust him even more quickly. Toby hesitated for a moment, but then allowed Clark to stroke its back.

Diana was watching Clark coax the cat out of the tree from the ground, torn between worry and amusement at the delight on Millie's face. "Be careful, Clark." She called out.

Suddenly, Clark's mobile rang. Diana saw that the caller was Bruce. She switched on the phone. "This is Diana, Bruce." She said. "I am sorry, Clark is a little busy right now."

"I needed to talk to him about something important, Diana." Bruce said. "Where is he?"

"He is helping Millie with a little problem." Diana said, watching Clark's progress.

"What's the boy scout doing now?" Bruce said impatiently. "Getting a cat out of a tree?"

"Well, actually, yes. That is exactly what he is doing." Diana said, laughing.

"Oh" Bruce paused. "Well, that pretty much nips the sarcastic comment I had planned in the bud. Okay then, I'll call him later." He hung up.

Clark had gotten hold of Toby, and was bringing him down tucked under one arm.

"There you go." He said, handing over the kitten to its mistress. Millie rushed over to gather Toby in her arms. The kitten had begun to mewl loudly again, under the vague impression that it had done something heroic.

"Thank you so much, Clark." Millie said happily, giving Clark a hug. "I don't know how long he would've been stuck up there if you hadn't helped."

"No problem." Clark grinned.

"I'm going to go find him something to eat. He must be starving." Millie said anxiously. "I'll be back in a minute." She hurried off towards the entrance of the kitchens.

Diana smiled at him. "That was a very nice thing you did, Clark."

"It was no big deal." Clark shrugged.

Diana handed his mobile and wallet back to him. "Bruce called while you were up there." She said. "He said he needed to talk to you about something important."

"Okay, I'll call him later." Clark nodded. He stared around the grounds, where a few interested people had gathered to watch the rescue. "This must be a nice place to grow up in."

"It's not very well off, but the people are very nice and kind." Diana agreed. "That is why Millie is so happy here."

"So what else do you do on your visits here?" He asked her, thrusting his hands in his pockets as they made their way back down the path.

"Since this is your first visit here, we were planning to show you around the entire complex." Diana said with a smile, "I wanted to show Millie something she had been very interested in." She patted her bag.

They wandered over to the gardens again while Diana pointed out the building where the classes were held, and sat down on one of the benches.

"These gardens remind me of my home." Diana said, looking around herself with a smile. "These are a little smaller, but they are tended as carefully as at my home. And they have some of my favourite flowers as well."

"It is certainly a beautiful place." Clark agreed. He glanced at her. "There must be a lot of things you miss about home." They had talked about their backgrounds, and Clark knew she was from a very rich family. But they had not gone very deeply into their different family lifestyles before. "Are you fond of gardening?"

"A little, although what I liked was mainly lazing under a tree with a book in the summer." Diana smiled. "I imagine you must have done quite a bit of that on the farm as well."

"There wasn't really a lot of time for lazing around.' Clark said with a small laugh. "Life on a farm in Smallville is a little different from that of a mansion in Boston. Most of my time on the farm was spent doing chores."

"We had chores too." Diana protested. "My mother was very strict about us doing our bit and not becoming dependent on others."

"I'm sure, but it's not really the same thing." Clark said quietly. "It's the same with Bruce and Arthur. You all worked because you wanted to, and that's really admirable. But there is always a staff of servants just around the corner to take care of things. And you only did the activities you were interested in, like exercising for Bruce, or swimming for Arthur."

"Well yes, it must be a different life from that of a farm." Diana agreed. "Was your life very strict?"

"Well, it was a regimented lifestyle, to say the least." Clark shrugged. "The work that's done on a farm isn't the type which can be pushed back to suit your convenience. I was up at five most days. My parents were usually up at four. I used to go to school, then come back and help my father in the barn. Then I'd to do my homework. After that I took care of repairs around the farm. Get the cattle back after the day's work was over. Mucking out the stalls, giving animals their pills, removing worms and diseased stock. Oh yeah, those were really fun things. Stuff like that."

Diana smiled. "It does seem like a vigorous life style."

"But it was still nothing compared to what my father and mother did." Clark said, leaning back in his seat. "They both worked all day and all night to make the place work. We never really had a lot of money, so we had to work harder than everyone else to keep up the farm."

Diana blushed. Poverty was not something she had had to worry about in her life. It was strange to hear of it, not in the dispassionate case of a stranger, but that of a friend. But Clark did not look discomfited, or as though he was embarrassed. He was still talking.

"But it was more of a community life in Smallville." He said. "During harvesting, everyone would chip in to help each other. My dad, and Lana Lang's dad, and Pete Ross's, and the others would loan each other their harvesters and tractors, and lend a hand with storing the crops and transporting it." He sighed. "It was a good life, hard as it was."

"It does sound very healthy." Diana agreed. "Then perhaps that is why you get along well with people, and can get everyone to work together when the need arises."

"Yeah, I've been used to that sort of a community life." Clark shrugged. He glanced at her. "I imagine life was different at your school."

"Very" Diana agreed. "I grew up in Themyscira, and the regime was strict there too. But the emphasis was on learning rather than doing chores."

"And sports?" Clark asked. "Any girl who can knock out a full grown man with one swing can't be a mere bookworm."

Diana laughed. "Athlete of the year, actually." She said, and felt an oddly pleasurable thrill when Clark looked at her in admiration. "I always enjoyed games and track events, and they were a staple part of the curriculum in Themyscira."

"Then the mystery of your athletic prowess is solved." Clark grinned.

"Your own ability is nothing to scoff at." Diana replied. "I have heard many great things about your boxing talent."

"Yeah, well." Clark shrugged. "It's useful. But it's nothing major, just enough to get by."

"That is not what Bruce said. He told me you were virtually unstoppable once you became angry." She looked at him teasingly. "And I thought you were the most even tempered of us all."

"I try to be." Clark said. "But I don't think it's possible for anyone to be calm all the time. And I still have a lot to learn."

"But you still seem to have learnt more than any other male that I have met so far." Diana said with a smile.

"You think so? Well, then, this is a proud day indeed for Clark Kal Kent." Clark said with a grin.

"Clark what Kent?" Diana asked in surprise.

Clark grinned again. "Kal is my middle name." He said. "My godparents gave it to me. Jor and Lara El. They were friends of my parents back in Smallville. I never knew them, because they died in an epidemic, but my parents gave me the middle name they wanted in their memory."

"Kal" Diana pronounced his name slowly. She smiled. "I like that name."

Clark said nothing, glancing around the area again to hide a spreading smile. His middle name, spoken in her musical voice, with the faintly Greek accent, sounded really nice.

They sat in silence for a while, both feeling completely relaxed. A few minutes later Millie returned, but without Toby.

"He's eating right now." She called out happily. "He must've been starving."

"Then he will be busy for a while." Diana smiled. "I believe you wanted to see this, Millie?"

She opened her purse, and drew out a glittering coil of rope. It sparkled golden in the sunlight and looked extremely handsome. Millie stared at it in awe.

"This is the rope you told me about?" She asked, touching it hesitantly, as though afraid of breaking it.

"You can hold it." Diana said, holding it out to her. "It's very strong."

Millie took the rope carefully, running her hand up and down the golden coils.

"Is it really made of gold?" Clark asked, looking at it with interest.

"Not pure gold, but it does have golden threads running all through its body." Diana said. "It was made especially for me, and is a very valuable piece of craftsmanship."

"You used to play truth or dare with it, right?" Clark said with a smile, watching Millie examining the rope.

Diana laughed. "Yes, we used to call it the lasso of truth. Whoever was holding it had to tell the truth. A lot of secrets used to come out whenever we used it."

"It's so beautiful." Millie sighed. She looked up at the two. "Come on, let's go show this to Barda. She's in the office."

They headed for the main building, and found Scott and Barda in the office on the ground floor. Millie excitedly showed them the rope, and Diana introduced Clark to the two.

"Pleasure to meet you." Scott said, looking at Clark with interest. "I've heard about you from our... mutual acquaintance."

"And I've heard about you." Clark replied. "My friend Bruce found out everything he could about you and Etrigan and the others after the whole Riddler business."

Scott inclined his head. "I am sorry if you are still sore about that." He said. "We did what was necessary."

"I realise that." Clark said. "It's the only reason why we didn't go to the police." They were standing a little to the side, and the other three could not hear them. "Did that bit of business work out?"

"As well as could be hoped." Scott shrugged. "New Genesis was broken away from Dak Syde's control a week ago. Of course, the price was evidence that could have seriously hurt him."

"It's bound to be a difficult business putting a criminal behind bars when you're up against someone like Dak Syde." Clark said grimly. "My friends and I are doing what we can to expose Dak Syde as well."

"I appreciate that, Clark." Scott said, shaking his hand. "We need all the help we can get."

"But there's nothing we can do right now but wait for him to make a move." Clark said, as the two walked back to the others. Scott nodded.

"What were you two talking about?" Millie demanded as they came up to the other three.

"This and that." Scott said airily. "Grown up stuff. I hope you have some things planned for your friends today other than hunting for that cat of yours."

"Of course." Millie said. "We're going to do lots of things. I've got it all planned out. We just came to see you guys first. Now we can get started." She turned to Diana and Clark. "Come on, let's go to the kitchen and see if we can get something to eat too, I'm hungry."

They spent the rest of the day with Millie in New Genesis, with the little girl carrying Diana's lasso the whole time. She showed them over the entire compound again, and told Clark all that she could remember about the place since she had arrived there.

"How are the studies here?" Clark asked her.

"Okay, I guess." Millie shrugged. "We've got some teachers. And Scott and Barda help us in the evening with stuff we don't understand."

"That's good." Clark looked at the sky. They had spent the entire day at New Genesis, and it was now getting dark. "We'll have to get going soon." He told Diana. He then looked at Millie. "You know, you can come to the college too sometime, and we can show you where we stay."

"Diana promised she'd take me there someday." Millie said.

"It has been a hectic time at the university, but I will certainly bring you there soon and introduce you to all our friends." Diana promised her.

Just then Barda came around the corner of a building holding a glass and a tablet. She stared around the grounds until she spotted them.

"There you are." She said. "You forgot to take your medicine this afternoon, Millie."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Barda." Millie said. She took the tablet and the glass of water Barda was carrying and drank it quickly.

"You should be getting back inside." Barda told her. "It's going to be time for dinner soon."

"Clark and I were just thinking about leaving as well." Diana said to Barda. She bent towards the little girl. "I will come to see you soon, Millie."

"Okay, Diana." Millie said with a smile. "Thanks for showing me the lasso, it was really neat. You should come again too, Clark."

"I'd like to." Clark smiled. "I want to extend my acquaintance with Toby beyond just dragging him out of trees."

Millie laughed. Then suddenly, her laughter turned to coughs. The coughs got worse rapidly, until the little girl was almost doubled up.

"Okay, that's enough picnicking for you today." Barda said quickly, even as Diana put her arms around the little girl and drew her up gently. Slowly, Millie's coughs lessened as she leaned on Diana. "Let's get you back to your room now."

"Sorry" She said weakly. She tried to smile at Clark, even as her eyes were watering. "It's that stupid lung thing. It keeps coming up whenever I stay up too long. I'll have to lie down for a while now."

"No problem." Clark said, looking at her with concern. "Do you want me to carry you? I can get you there quicker."

"No no, I can do it on my own." Millie said, standing up determinedly. She looked at Diana in disappointment. "And we still have so much left over from what we planned to do."

"We can do it all some other time, Millie." Diana said gently. "We will come back soon. Right now you need to take rest."

"Yeah, all right." Millie sighed, giving her a tight hug. "It was really great meeting you, Clark."

"You too, Millie." Clark said. He was a little surprised when she hugged him too, but returned it warmly. "Rest well now. And keep an eye on Toby."

"Yeah" Millie laughed weakly.

"I'll see you guys later, then." Barda nodded to Diana and Clark. "Drop back any time you want."

"We'll be sure to." Diana said. "Take care, both of you."

Barda and Millie turned to leave. But suddenly, Millie turned back and came towards them.

"I forgot, here's your lasso, Diana." She said, pulling it away from her waist, where it had been partially hidden beneath her bulky overall.

"Thank you." Diana took the lasso. "Take care, Millie."

"You too, Diana." Millie smiled at Clark, then ran back to Barda. They went back to the main building. Millie had started to cough again.

Clark looked at Diana. There was a look of deep sadness in her eyes as she gazed after Millie.

"It's very sad." He said quietly.

"I just wish I didn't feel so helpless." Diana whispered. "I wish I could do more. For all these children." She stared around the complex at the children still milling around the complex. Clark was watching her as well as the children. "They all need so much help."

"They are getting help." Clark said gently. "High father, Scott, Barda, all the others are doing all they can. The children are not alone Diana." He stood next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "We can't take care of everyone on our own, Diana. I know you want to save everyone, but there is a time for everything. Now is the time for us to study and make something of our lives. Someday in the future we can help people instead of just talking about it."

Diana gave him a small smile. "You are right, Clark." She said. "I just became a little emotional after seeing Millie like that."

"Is there no cure for her condition?" Clark asked.

Diana shook her head. "Before, something might have been possible. But they could not get the money when it was necessary. Now it's too late."

She walked slowly to the entrance gates. Clark walked after her in silence. "I wish I could more than just give them money." Diana said in a low voice, placing the lasso on the short boundary wall.

"You are doing more." Clark said. "You are giving Millie friendship and love. That is worth more than any amount of money you can give her."

"That's a nice thing to say, Clark." Diana said with a slightly bitter smile. "But something a lot more concrete than friendship is going to be needed to improve her life."

"Yes, it is." Clark agreed, retrieving the lasso from the wall. "But the steps she needs to take for that to happen have to be taken by her. You or me or high father, none of us can make those decisions for her. We can just be there for her when she does. And you are certainly there for her to lean on."

"I think you are exaggerating a little." Diana said wearily. "All I do is spend some time with her."

"And that means more to her than you realise." Clark said, holding out the lasso to her. "She seems pretty happy to see you."

"I get along well with children." Diana said, taking hold of the lasso.

"You think that's all there is to it? You really don't see why Millie enjoys your company, do you?" Clark said. "You don't see yourself as Millie sees you. She sees a girl who is intelligent and kind and gentle, who doesn't care that she lives in an orphanage, or is poor, or in poor health. Someone good and beautiful who wants to be her friend unconditionally. Someone who she looks up to and admires. It might seem ridiculous to you, but sometimes all we need is someone strong for us to lend us their strength for just a little while. And then we find that that strength exists in ourselves as well."

Diana stared into Clark's eyes, feeling a sense of comfort. "I truly hope you are right, Clark." She said. "This business, what they do here, it is so much more difficult than passing exams, or catching a criminal, yet this is what I want to do."

"And I know of no one who can do this better than you, Diana." Clark said steadily. "You care more about people than anyone I know. Enough to meet all the despair head on, and keep on going. But no one can be strong all the time."

They were standing very close now. They had both been holding the lasso. Now they drew back slightly, and Diana looped the lasso around her wrist slowly.

"And that determination is all we have to hold onto right now." She said with a small smile. "While people like Dak Syde are present among us, tormenting these people."

"Dark Syde's day will come. And we've got each other to hold onto as well." Clark smiled at her. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me and the others for a long time."

This time Diana laughed. "A condition I am very happy with." She said. They walked back to the car in silence, and Diana got into the passenger seat in front. Clark stood looking at her for a moment. "You okay?" He asked her.

Diana smiled. "I will be." She said. "Thank you for coming with me, Clark. I really enjoyed being here with you today."

"I had a great time too, Diana." He smiled as well. He walked over to the driver's seat and got in.

As Clark started the engine, it occurred to him that what he had had with Diana that day, alone and away from their friends, could technically be described as a first date.

But there had been none of the feelings Clark had experienced on the few other dates he had been in. There had been no worrying about making a good impression, or trying to impress her. There had been no agonies about what she might be thinking about him. The ordinary trivialities that ear marked a first date had been completely absent.

He glanced at Diana in the mirror. She was watching the orphanage as it receded into the background. She saw him watching and smiled at him. He smiled back.

Perhaps the changes simply meant he was growing up.

* * *

At last came the Saturday on which the party was to take place on Arthur's yatch. It was a little after twelve noon that the group stood in the shade of a tree in front of the boy's hostel.

"So, everyone ready?" Wally called out, his bag packed and lying on a bench. Clark, Arthur, John and Kyle stood near him.

"I am." Kyle said, walking up to him and putting his duffel bag next to Wally's. "Bruce is gathering up his things. He'll be here soon."

"I'll be done in a minute." Clark said, tightening the string on his duffel bag.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us, John?" Arthur asked, swinging his own bag over his shoulder.

"I have some points to discuss with the head of my department about summer coaching." John explained. "I shall catch a bus and meet you at the docks."

Just then, Bruce came out of his hostel carrying his own bulky bag. "Everyone ready?" He asked.

"What are you carrying in that big tank of a bag?" Arthur asked in amusement.

"Only the barest necessities." Bruce shrugged. "Lotion, insect repellent, sun screen, snorkelling gear, compact but nutritious sandwiches, glucose."

"Smoke bombs, grenades, grappling hooks." Clark murmured. Bruce cocked an eye at him. "Very funny, Kent."

"We're going for a party, Bruce, we're not planning on scaling Mt. Everest." Wally remarked.

"I'm just being careful." Bruce said, adjusting the strap on his bag.

Diana appeared in the distance, carrying her own bag. "I am sorry I am a little late." She called out. "Are we all ready?"

"Forgive me, Diana." John said suddenly. "But I had forgotten. You got a call this morning. I volunteered to take the message for you. It was from some person named High Father. He said that your presence was urgently needed in New Genesis."

"He did?" Diana frowned, perplexed. "Did he say why?"

John shook his head. "All he said was that Millie needed your help."

Diana's frown deepened. "That sounds serious." She looked troubled. "I think I should go and see what the problem is. But it might take a while. And we have planned this party for so long." She looked at Clark and the others.

"Perhaps you can visit the orphanage in Bruce's car." John suggested. "If the business won't take long, you can then meet us at the docks, like I intend to do after my work is done in the head's office."

"Yeah, that sounds like the best plan." Bruce said, tossing Diana his car keys. "Just be sure to park it in a safe place on the beach."

"Thank you, Bruce." Diana said, catching the key chain. "Then I shall see you all at the docks." She turned and left for the car lot.

"Looks like we're catching the bus, too, then." Clark said to the others after Diana had left. "We'd better get going now. We'll see you later John."

John waved to the five boys, and watched as they left the campus.

Once they had disappeared from view, he stood motionless for a moment, watching the students milling around the college, each wrapped up in his or her own world.

Then John turned and made his way to the computer lab on the other side of the campus. Once inside, he scanned the room. John Henry Irons was not present. He was going to the party as well.

He made his way to the computer placed in the corner, a little distance further from the others, and partially hidden behind a side wall. He turned on the computer and opened the internet.

John waited while the connection was encrypted, and slipped on the headphones and mike. He typed the address for a secure location.

He was using a VPN from a prearranged location with a specially designed remote access program. The line was completely secure.

A short pause, then a bar appeared onscreen, with a question mark next to it. John typed in 'Alien' and pressed enter.

For a moment, the screen went blank. Then the face of a young African man massively built appeared on screen. He stared at John through ruthless, cold black eyes.

"Manhunter." The face nodded in greeting. Taking names was a security risk, and instead, code names had been assigned to the members of their group.

"Greetings, Protex." John replied.

"Is everything in place?" Protex asked.

"Matters have been arranged successfully." John said. "And on your side?"

"The ammunition and weapons have arrived on schedule." Protex confirmed. "We've checked their quantity and condition. Everything is in order."

"Good." John said. "We will have to move out quickly."

"And your companions suspect nothing?" Protex demanded.

"They have gone to a yatch for a party." John said. "The bomb I placed in the boiler room on board is timed to explode approximately fifteen minutes after they leave the dock. The car in which one of them is travelling is similarly rigged."

"Excellent" Protex nodded in satisfaction. "Then there will be no lose ends left to implicate us."

"But I repeat, we have to move quickly now." John said.

Protex nodded. "You know the location. We will be there within two hours."

"We don't have that much time." John said firmly. "The police know my companions personally. They will question my absence from the yatch and come straight to me. We have" John consulted his watch. "Thirty minutes to make our escape. Meet me at the factory in under twenty. Luck to you, Protex." John ended the connection and turned off the computer.

He rose from his seat and left the room. Looking neither to the left nor to the right, he made his way rapidly towards the university gates.


	17. The Price of Hesitation

THE PRICE OF HESITATION

John walked into the enormous room to find it a hive of activity. The room was located at the seaside docks and was used for the repair and maintenance of boats. A deep channel of water was rippling in the centre of the room, from there the water led directly into the ocean. Several parts of the room were partitioned off, and a table lay to the side filled with instruments. There were four young African men at work inside the room, and every head turned as John entered.

Protex rose from his chair in front of the security camera screens and came towards John with a large smile.

"The man of the hour." He said, striding forward to give John a hug. He stepped back and turned to the others. "We welcome today the man responsible, more than anyone else, for what we have achieved here on this day."

"Just doing my duty, Protex." John said with a smile. "Is everything ready?"

"Just a half hour left before the ship calls for us." A-Mortal called out as he walked up to them. He was a tall, sinewy youth who moved with the soundless grace of a panther. He was taciturn by nature, but John knew he was one of the most dangerous men of his acquaintance. A-Mortal's skill with his fists had been legendary in their country. There was still a warrant out for his arrest in their home town.

"And enough time to retrieve the weapons." Zum added, walking over to the centre of the room, where the stretch of water led out of the room and to the ocean. John studied the slim dark man who moved constantly with restless energy. Zum was one of the fastest runners he had ever seen, an ability that had made him an invaluable ally during the war in their country, when roads were often too heavily damaged to allow vehicles. John had often wondered who would win a race between Wally and Zum. Armek came to stand next to Zum. He was a tall, broad shouldered young man with the physique of a vigorous swimmer. His skill underwater was unmatched, and he had played a key role in the team's recent activities.

"Every thing in good time, Zum." Protex said, crossing his arms across his chest. "Rushing things won't help. We cannot afford mistakes at this point."

Lastly, John studied the leader of their group. Protex was built like a line backer, and was physically the most intimidating of their group. It wasn't just the corded muscles rippling across his frame, but the complete ruthlessness of his demeanour that had made his their unquestioned leader in difficult times. Once, John had seen a man try to stand up to him in their home town. Protex had broken the man's back and left him paralysed. No one else had questioned him again.

Protex looked keenly at John. "Are you sure you weren't followed here?"

"Absolutely." John said. "No one has any reason to suspect me yet."

"And by the time they do, we will be long gone." Protex nodded. "Any regrets, John?"

John shook his head. "We did what we had to." He said quietly. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. I know that."

"Exactly." Protex nodded. He turned to the others, who were watching them as well. Protex's eyes were filled with dark resolve. "We did not start this war. But we can finish it with the right weapons. Once we get them to our brothers in our country, the tide of battle will turn in our favour." He turned to smile fiercely at John. "And so we will move onto a new beginning, in our own homeland."

* * *

Diana entered New Genesis, and was conscious of an air of desolation surrounding the complex. The grounds were deserted, and the doors of several rooms were swinging on their side, as though someone had forgotten to shut them in their hurry. There was a hushed murmur coming from the building where the children lived.

Diana reached the office of the high father to find it locked. There was no one around to direct her. She was just debating between going to the garden or the hostel, when the sound of footsteps made her turn.

"Barda" Diana called out. Barda stopped and turned, and stared at Diana in surprise.

"Diana, what are you doing here?" She asked, hurrying over to her. She looked extremely harassed, and there was something else in her expression that caught at Diana's heart with a sudden, nameless fear.

"I came to visit Millie and High father." Diana said, looking around them. "Where is everyone?"

"They're all with Millie." Barda said. "She's very sick." Her voice shook slightly. "The doctor doesn't think she'll last very long."

Diana stared at her, the suddenness of the shock depriving her of speech. "Where is she?" She asked finally.

"At the clinic at the back." Barda said. "I came to find a bag she wanted me to get her." Barda hurried out of the room again, Diana following close behind her.

They made their way to Millie's room and found the bag. The sound of hushed murmurs had increased, and now Diana knew what the voices were talking about. Neither of the girls spoke until they were back on the open field on the way to the clinic.

"The doctor is positive?" Diana asked finally. "Perhaps a second opinion-"

"It's her lungs." Barda cut in. "They'd been getting worse ever since she couldn't have that operation. Then today there was a relapse. The doctor says it's a surprise she's lasted this long."

Barda voice died away as her eyes filled with tears. Diana reached out silently and squeezed her hand tightly, even as her own heart filled with foreboding. The two made their way rapidly towards the clinic.

* * *

John walked up to the edge of the water where the others had gathered. Protex nodded to Armek, who began a series of stretching exercises. He knew from experience how muscles could seize underwater and lead to grave situations for the diver.

"You arrived earlier than we were expecting, otherwise we would have retrieved the weapons already." Protex said to John.

"I thought the weapons were hidden inside this building?" John asked.

"They are." Zum said. "In the last place they would be looked for." He indicated the stretch of water in the floor in the middle of the room around which they were all gathered.

"The cache is kept underwater!" John looked at Protex in surprise.

"Sealed in an airtight bag and chained to the bottom." Protex nodded in satisfaction. "We shifted the weapons last time after you left. Now Armek just needs to unlock the chains and open the air bags, and the entire cache will float up to us."

"Just in time for our ride to get us out of here." Armek remarked, stripping off his shirt to reveal a muscular torso.

"So it seems everything is in place." John said. He turned to Protex. "Our associates know we are leaving tonight?"

"Of course" Protex said. "And don't worry, I know it would be foolish to trust them with our deepest secrets, but we have something that will convince them to keep quiet about our activities."

John looked at him questioningly, and Zum reached into his pocket and took out a thumb drive. "All the conversations we've had with them online." He said. "If they sell us out, they will be the next group to get caught."

"But these are just precautions." Protex said musingly, studying the gently rippling water in front of them. "It would take an extraordinary twist of fate to sabotage our plans now, and frankly-"

The sound of sirens coming from outside the room stopped Protex in mid sentence. His teammates looked startled as well. As one, every head whipped towards the security cameras. The area outside the building was suddenly jam packed with police cars and vans, and officers were pouring out of the vehicles with sleek guns and rifles in their hands.

"No" Protex bellowed, running towards the screen, the others right behind him. "This isn't possible."

"We have the entire building surrounded." An impersonal voice carried into the room over a megaphone. "We know you are currently in possession of stolen contraband and illegal weapons. There is no escape from this spot. Surrender peacefully and come out of the room with your hands in the air."

"How did they know where we were?" Armek demanded, glaring around at the group.

"They couldn't know." Protex voice was filled with fury. "All our contacts were secure. There is no way they could have known-" He stopped talking abruptly. A sudden, horrible suspicion sprang in his mind. He turned to stare at John, who stood a little away from the others. Their eyes met in comprehension.

"I truly am sorry, Protex." John said quietly.

Protex crossed the distance between them within seconds, and his fist landed on John's mouth before he could even think about dodging. "You filthy traitor!" Protex bellowed.

John raised himself on one hand from his fallen position and wiped away the blood coming out of his mouth. "I did what I had to do."

"You betrayed your countrymen." Protex roared, taking a step towards him. A-Mortal stopped him as the voice on the mega phone rang once again across the room.

"We know you have a man named John Jones with you inside." The voice said. "Let him come out unharmed and we will take the act into consideration during your trial. If you add homicide to your other crimes you will likely be facing the electric chair."

There was complete silence inside the room as the voice died away.

"Why?" A-Mortal spoke up now, his eyes on John, his voice a dangerous hiss. "Why did you do this?"

"I can't let innocent people get killed because of our mission." John said, still in a quiet voice. "Too much death has already occurred. And the same will happen in our country as well. I want no part of it."

"These weapons would have helped us win the war." Protex shouted, a vein throbbing in his forehead.

"Not our war, _your_ war, Protex." John said, raising himself to his feet and wiping away the fresh blood coming out of his mouth. "Your dream isn't to end the war, but to establish yourself as the new warlord. And I have known you long enough to know that would be much worse for our country then the current situation."

More and more officers were appearing on the screen. The group paused to watch them file into formation outside the door.

"Do we surrender?" A-Mortal asked, his voice cool now as he stood surveying the camera screens.

"No" Protex's voice was unwavering. He looked at the others. "They're waiting for us to come out peacefully. We will hide in one of the upper recesses of the building. We will bring with us enough artillery to destroy most of them, and those of us who can, will get to one of the ships on the harbour, and make our escape from there."

"Protex, if you give yourselves over, you all will be dealt with leniently." John said urgently. "What you are planning is suicide. None of you will make it ten feet alive."

Protex turned and walked slowly towards John. "I don't know about us." He whispered. "But you will certainly not survive this night." He grabbed John's collar.

"I did not expect to." John said, his voice now calm and detached. There was a curiously resigned look in his eyes. "I came to this meeting tonight intending to die here." He looked around at the other members of the team. "But there is still hope for you. Please-"

"You needn't worry about us, John." Protex said, dragging John's face close to his own. John could see the barely contained madness in the coal black eyes. "I can promise you have enough troubles of your own."

"Not if we have a say in the matter." A voice called out evenly from the staircase. John turned in shock to see Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Arthur Curry and Wally West coming down the staircase.

* * *

Barda entered the hospital room and Diana followed her inside. The smell of antiseptics and drugs assailed them. Diana felt her stomach clench as she surveyed the scene in front of her.

The single bed in the middle of the room was surrounded by people. High father sat at the side of the bed at its head, his head bent in prayer. Scott Free stood silently at his side, his hands folded across his chest as he stared silently at the bed. He looked up briefly as the two girls entered and Barda took the bag to the head of the bed. There were several other people ranged around the bedstead, some whom Diana knew and some who were strangers. There was one thing common to all of them. The mixture of resignation and grief that showed in their expressions.

Diana gave all this only a cursory glance. Her eyes were pulled on their own accord to the bed, on which lay a tiny figure riddled with tubes and bandages. Diana's heart gave a painful wrench as she moved slowly towards the bed.

Scott moved aside to give her room, and she kneeled down next to the pillow on which lay the little head. Millie's eyes were half closed, tubes trailing out of her nostrils and her hand. Her chest was heaving with effort, her heart valiantly fighting a rapidly losing battle. Diana reached out softly and put a hand on the head, one of the few places left free on the body.

Diana turned to high father, who looked at her sadly. "The doctors...?" She whispered quietly.

"Have done all they could." High father said softly. "They say all we can do now is make her as comfortable as possible." His eyes were filled with grief.

"Millie" Barda called softly. Millie stirred, and her eyes twitched half open in Diana's direction. Diana's couldn't tell whether she recognised her or not. She leaned in closer, stroking her hair gently.

Millie turned to Barda, who held up the bag she had brought. Millie gave a slow smile and motioned with one hand for her to open the bag.

Barda zipped open the bag. Inside were the few trinkets Millie possessed. A pack of stickers. Some cheap sweets. Inexpensive ornaments and baubles that she had grown attached to. All these, Barda put on the bed next to the pillow. Lastly, Barda drew out a beautiful pair of silver bracelets, considerably more expensive than the rest of the items. They had been a present to Millie from a couple who come to donate to the orphanage once, and had been charmed by the young girl. They had been too big for her to wear them yet, and Diana had modelled them for her once. Millie had been delighted with how beautiful they looked, and she had hoped to wear them when she got older.

Now Millie turned and looked at Diana, still with her eyes half closed tiredly, as though every movement cost an effort. Diana leaned in closer as Millie spoke.

"Take them." She said in a soft voice. Diana stared at Millie as the girl looked back at her, her eyes slightly more alert now.

"Take them, Diana." She repeated.

"They are yours, Millie." Diana said softly. "They belong to you."

"I want you to-" Millie's lungs seized for a moment and she stopped talking abruptly. Diana leaned in closer, filled with horror. A few seconds later, Millie's breathing returned to normal. "-to have them." She whispered.

Diana stared at her for a second. Slowly, she reached over the bed and took the bracelets Barda handed to her. She put them on in front of Millie. They fit snugly over her wrists. Millie smiled as she saw them.

"They look nice." She mumbled. The brief activity seemed to have sapped her resources. Her eyes closed again and she laid her head back.

Diana sat on the bed next to where the little girl's head lay. "I'm right here, Millie." She whispered. It was all she could say. She could not tell whether the little girl had heard her or not.

* * *

Protex's eyes narrowed as he released John and turned towards the newcomers. The other members of his group were at his side in an instant, poised and ready.

"I see the traitor had arranged for backup." Protex said softly, looking at Clark. "How fortunate for him."

"Let John go." Clark said quietly. "Surrender to the police and we don't have to do anything stupid or dangerous."

"I don't think you understand." Protex said, still in the soft voice. "You have already done something very dangerous. You came here." He stared at the three standing next to Clark. "This isn't a two bit college romp where we give up when the referee tells us to. We had one hostage before." He indicated John, "And now we have five."

"We didn't come here to become hostages." Bruce said evenly. "Your cover is blown, the police is waiting outside, and we've rigged the entire room. Surrender is your only option."

"And if we don't?" Protex eyed him appraisingly.

"Then we'll have to force you to." Clark said quietly. "Either way, this ends-"

The sound of breaking glass stopped him. A-Mortal had slipped away, and sent a wrench hurtling into the skylight in the ceiling. The skylight exploded in a rain of glass.

The falling glass sent everyone running for cover. Protex ran next to his friends, his hands over his face. For a moment, everything was in disarray.

"Release the weapons into the ocean." Protex bellowed to Armek, who nodded and dove for the water surface. "Zum" Protex called out, who turned to him. "Get out from the upper window. If we have the pen drive, we can negotiate with the mob to get us out in exchange for the information." Zum nodded as well and was gone.

"A-mortal" Protex called out. But A-mortal was gone, striding towards Bruce Wayne, who stood waiting for him. Protex knew that the bloodlust in A-Mortal demanded immediate release. Wayne was as good as dead.

Just then, Protex saw John making his way to the side of the room, searching for Clark and the others. At the sight of him, Protex felt again the rage he had felt earlier, and the only thought in his mind was to strangle John with his bare hands. He ran after him.

Suddenly, a pairs of arms wrapped around him and threw him sideways. He crashed into the equipment table, sending instruments flying everywhere.

Protex looked up and stared at the tall figure of Clark Kent as he came near and stood before him.

"You're Protex, right?" Clark said. "I've heard about you. You like to pick on people who're smaller than you." Clark stood staring at him for a moment. "Want to try someone your own size for a change?"

Protex growled. His mouth opened in a feral snarl, and he rushed towards Clark.

Bruce stood before A-Mortal. The two regarded each other coolly for a moment, sizing each other up. And then A-Mortal crossed the distance between them. A flurry of fists, and suddenly a leg hooked around Bruce's ankle, sending him crashing to the ground. Bruce rolled out of the way just as a knee slammed down on the spot where his face had been.

"Interesting" Bruce said, jumping back to his feet in one smooth motion. "Savate. I confess, I was expecting something along the lines of Musangwe." He spread his feet apart and tilted his body, shifting his centre of gravity. One hand was raised halfway to his waist as he stared at A-Mortal. "Let's try this one more time."

Armek swam to the underwater area where the weapons were kept. Working at top speed, he untied the lock chaining the bag to the bottom. His one thought was to open the bag and remove all the weapons. At least there would be no hard evidence against them. He took out a knife and prepared to slit the bag.

A violent kick to his back sent him face first into the bag. He extricated himself and swam away quickly, turning in the poor light to search for his attacker. He saw Arthur Curry floating in the water a few feet away. Arthur pointed at the knife in hand, and then the bag, shaking a reproving finger. Armek gripped the knife more firmly, stared at Arthur, his eyes full of black promise. Arthur raised a hand and beckoned him forward, in the universal signal for _bring it on_.

John reached the locked gate of the building. He hefted the hammer he had found on the instrument table and set to work on the lock. He could hear the sounds of battle from every part of the room, and it redoubled his energy.

Finally, he broke the lock and flung the doors open. A solid line of officers in full combat gear confronted him, rifles at the ready. He put his hands in the air and searched through the mass of officers.

"My friends are in danger." He called out. "They're fighting inside, and they could all die any minute."

"At ease, men." The line of officers broke, and John recognised Officer Dan Turpin. "Are you all right, John?"

"My friends are inside." John called out again desperately. The sounds of battle inside the room had intensified. "They need our help."

"And they'll get it." Officer Turpin said. Five officers came to stand next to him, and John led the group of grim faced policemen into the room.

He entered the spot near the water where the fighting had broken out. The room was a disaster. Broken instruments and furniture lay scattered. John searched through the wreckage for any signs of his friends.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps reached them, and the group turned to see Clark Kent walking towards them with the unconscious body of Protex slung over his shoulder.

"He was tough." Clark commented, depositing the body in front of the officers. He looked up to see Dan Turpin and nodded to him, "Good evening, Officer."

"The same to you, Clark." Turpin responded, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "We came here to help you all, but it seems you have the situation well in hand."

"More or less." Clark agreed. He scanned the room. "I don't really know where the others have gotten to, though-"

He was interrupted by a crash as a partition suddenly caved in and the body of A-Mortal was thrown through it. Bruce Wayne stepped over the wreckage, grabbed the unconscious form by the leg and dragged him into the room as well.

"This just keeps getting better and better." Officer Turpin muttered. "I suppose your lot are bringing down the rest of the group as well."

"That was the plan." Bruce said with a shrug. His eyes flitted to John for a second, then began scanning the room for the others.

Clark had walked over to the edge of the wharf as a dark figure became apparent at the bottom of the water. Arthur Curry appeared, making his way up the ramp with Armek struggling viciously in his arms. Two officers rushed forward to help him, and it was only after he was confronted with two guns that Armek finally stopped struggling.

"You okay?" Clark asked, helping Arthur out of the water.

"More or less." Arthur held up his bleeding hand. "Had to let him cut me to get close to him."

"There's an ambulance waiting outside." Officer Turpin said. Arthur nodded and turned towards the door, but then he stopped and turned back, "Where's Wally?"

Everyone else turned as well. There was no trace of Wally or Zum anywhere. Clark and the others felt a knot of fear rise in them as the seconds passed.

But then they heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. They all turned to see Wally coming down the staircase.

"He's upstairs unconscious right now." Wally called out. Two officers were despatched upstairs immediately.

"Are you all right?" Arthur asked him even as he held his bleeding hand.

Wally shrugged, "He was fast." He handed over to Officer Turpin the thumb drive Zum had been carrying. "I was faster."

Officer Turpin surveyed the room. "Well, I think this operation can be called a success." He remarked. He glanced at the five students standing before him. "Although it seems there's still a lot left to explain."

* * *

"So you knew all along what I intended to do?" John asked.

"For more than a month now." Wally assented. "We knew what your plan for tonight was, and we knew you had no intention of coming out of this mission alive. So we decided to lay a trap of our own."

It was half an hour after the last member of Protex's team had been subdued. John sat at the back of one of the police vans. Beside him sat Wally, looking none the worse for wear from his skirmish with Zum. They watched officers and reporters swarming around the area. There was no sign of Clark or Bruce or Arthur.

"But how did you find out about the clan and me?" John asked Wally. His mind was still in shock at the turn of events the night had taken.

"Bruce" Wally said with a shrug. "He'd been researching into some of the illegal activities carried out around here. He came across a group of renegades from Africa who happened to be from your hometown. That was enough to arouse his suspicions."

"But I made sure I was away from all of you whenever I conducted my business with Protex and the others." John said.

"Bruce never followed you himself." Wally said. "Turns out that's why he made friends with Eel O'Brian. Eel knows the underworld pretty well. He kept an eye on you with some of his associates. He found out what your group was planning to do, and your last planned rendezvous was at this point."

John sat in silence for a moment, digesting this information. "So you never intended to go to the yatch."

"We were here long before Protex and the others arrived." Wally replied. "Arthur had already gotten us inside this place a week ago. Kyle modified the upper storey of the building to create a hiding place for us where we could wait and watch. He'd laid a trap at the exit too. That's how I got Zum before he could get away. The plan was to bring your comrades down before they could kill you." Wally shrugged, gesturing around them. "Now here we are."

They fell into silence again, the noise around them making conversation difficult. John watched two officers force Protex into a police car, but not before he had shot a venomous look of hatred at John. John felt strangely detached, as though he was far removed from everything that was going on around him.

"Where are the others?" He asked finally.

"Bruce and Arthur are back at the university." Wally said. He paused, then said, "Clark's gone to New Genesis to find Diana."

"Good" John said, nodding. "That's good."

Wally sighed and passed a hand tiredly through his hair as he stared down at the ground. There was no trace left of the incredible energy he had displayed in his race against Zum.

"That kid at New Genesis." He said finally. "The girl, Millie. She's not going to make it, is she?"

John paused for a long moment. "No" He said. "That is why I sent Diana to New Genesis. So they could say good bye to each other..."

They sat in silence again, while the noise around them seemed to recede even further. A part of John wanted to explain, yet another part never wanted to think about the experience again. What was the point in going through the whole thing in his head? He could not undo anything now...

"I found about Protex and the others last year." He spoke quietly at last. Wally did not say anything, but John knew he was listening. "The authorities responsible for my deportation to this country called me and told me that some of my country men, men that I knew, had entered the country illegally, and were engaged in terrorist activities."

"You told us you were just going through some immigration procedures." Wally said, not looking at John.

"That is what I was instructed to tell everyone." John said. "I was offered the role of a mole inside the group. The authorities wanted to get to the man supplying the group with the firearms. The choice of joining the group was mine to make. I accepted."

"And this was the grand finale of your plan?" Wally turned to frown at John. "To get killed tonight along with your group? You knew what they would do to you, John."

John leaned back and studied his hands in silence. "They were my friends, Wally."

"And you expected that fact to be enough to stop them killing you?" Wally's voice had an edge to it now.

"You don't understand." John turned to look at Wally. His eyes were suddenly wet with tears as he repeated, "They were my friends, Wally. My countrymen. They were my last link to my home. And I betrayed them."

Wally stared at John in shock. John continued to look at him for a moment, then turned away again.

"You did what you had to, John." Wally said at last, placing a hand on his shoulder. "These people weren't your friends anymore. They were murderous terrorists, and they had to be stopped."

"Do you know what it means to grow up in a war torn nation, Wally?" John said softly. "I and the children I grew up with have seen public massacres since infancy. We have watched our loved ones butchered in front of us. We have learnt to do anything it takes to survive. The only ones we could turn to for support were each other." John stared at the police cars in front of them. "Protex had saved my life once. That is why he welcomed me into his group here. He knew I would do anything to help him." John stopped abruptly. He breathed in deeply for a moment. "He was wrong."

Wally stared at him. "I'm sorry, John." It was all he could think of to say.

"It was Dak Syde who was financing the team." John said. He spoke mechanically now. "He was the one the police was trying to get to." He turned to Wally. "Do you know which funds Dak Syde was manipulating to control Protex's group?"

"New Genesis." Wally said quietly. He was already aware of that link, which had allowed Bruce to trace John's activities.

"Always the innocents suffer." John said softly. He turned to Wally again. "I was still hesitating." He said. "I was avoiding doing anything to stop Protex. I was holding back information from the police. I kept telling myself that I could convince Protex and the others of the folly of their ways." John stared down at the ground. "Even as I knew in my heart that it was a lost cause."

"Then what made you decide?" Wally asked quietly.

"Remember what Diana told us about Millie?" John said. "Her lung condition was critical, and needed medical assistance, which the orphanage could not afford. Because Dak Syde had used the money to buy ammunitions for Protex and the others. Because I had hesitated for almost a year, that little girl was now paying the price." His voice died away.

Wally was staring at him. "That's why you were prepared to die tonight." He said quietly,

"If I did do something, I would be betraying my brothers." John said, his voice bitter. "If I did not do anything, innocents would continue to pay the price. I was damned whichever way I chose to jump. Either choice made me scum."

"It did not." Wally said sharply. "You did what you had to, John. You made the right choice. All that your hesitation showed was how deeply you cared for your countrymen."

"And now I have finally acted." John said softly. "My countrymen are on the way to jail, possibly execution. I lied to you and everyone else who befriended me here." He stared into the distance again. "And a child is dead."

He stayed silent for a moment, then said softly, "So, no, Wally, I don't feel very good about what I have done. The problem with real life heroics is there is very little black and white to go upon, only shades of grey. And the villain is all too often even more confused, and a victim of circumstances than you are. Protex's fault was that he was born in a place where he had to fight tooth and nail to survive his whole life. Millie's fault was that the people who gave birth to her did not want her."

"Dak Syde." Wally said in a hard voice. "It was all Dak Syde's fault, John."

"He will escape, Wally." John said. "We were unable to save physical evidence against him. And all he has to do is threaten to stop the weapons supply to their brother terrorists in my country, and no one in Protex's group will testify against him." John looked at Wally. "Not a very impressive show, after all I put everyone through."

Wally was quiet for a moment. "We'll get Dak Syde next time, John." He said at last.

"How many times have we said that, Wally?" John asked quietly. "Yet his presence continues to infest the world."

"Then we keep trying until it happens." Wally said. "Otherwise we're just giving in to him. What happens then?"

"It's not our responsibility, Wally." John said softly. "Have you ever considered that? We are not the police, and it is not up to us to put us and our friends through so much pain and danger, on account of someone like Dak Syde."

Wally said nothing for a long time. "I know you don't really mean that." He said finally. "It's because of all that's happened today. I know you're hurting, John. I know you expected to die tonight, and you're still in shock, but you can't give up. We all can't just give up."

"But it is true, Wally." John said, looking up at him. "None of this is our responsibility. We're just students. Why then should it be up to us to bring Dak Syde to justice? We should be focused on our studies, not stopping terrorists and despots."

"Tell that to Millie and your friends back home." Wally said, the edge back in his voice. "Tell that to every person who's suffered at the hands of people like Dak Syde. Tell them it's not the responsibility of any decent human being capable of empathy not to help them. We can pretend we're not a part of all this ugliness, John. We can close our eyes and ears and let the innocents suffer, and say that it's not our problem. But then we better hope that nothing like this ever happens to us, because when that time comes, we won't be in a position to expect help from anyone else either."

John hung his head in an uncharacteristic sign of defeat. "It just seems like a losing battle, Wally." He said. "It's been so many days, so many victims, and yet we are no closer to the goal. Does that not mean we are, In fact, losing?"

"I don't believe that." Wally said. "Not as long as there's still one person left to fight. It's only when you lose that will to keep on, when you accept that it's a lost cause." Wally turned to look at John. "That's when you're beaten, John."

John said nothing, but sat in silent again. Wally said nothing as well. The two stared into the distance together.

"You are right, Wally." John said at last. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. "A new day, a new beginning." He looked at Wally. "I have rarely felt so depressed before, Wally, Forgive me. But now I suppose there is nowhere for me to go from this low spot but up." He folded his arms across his chest, feeling suddenly cold. "I just need to find the will to get up again, and the courage to go on."

"You've always had both, John." Wally said, standing up slowly. "That's why you're here tonight. You don't start running if you don't believe you can complete the race. It's not always easy, especially if you don't even know the lay of the track. But you just keep running, and hope that you cross the finish line eventually."

John was silent as he stared down at his hands. "It is a very lonely race." He said.

"That's why you need friends." Wally said. "And that's where the rest of us come in. You don't have to bear the burden alone, John."

"I realise that now, Wally." John said. "And I am more grateful for that than I will ever be able to express." Wally smiled at him. "It's a matter of keeping things in perspective, the good and the bad."

"And trying to remember the good we are trying to do." Wally agreed. "It's how you find the strength to fight the darkness, John."

"But what happens when the darkness gets to be too much and you are overwhelmed?" John asked quietly. "How do you find that ray of hope again?"

Wally stood staring at the horizon. "You hang around Clark for a while." He said with a slight grin, turning to John.

John gave a small smile, the best he could manage at the moment. But he felt slightly better. He knew the pain would not go away at once, but nor did he want it to. It would be an insult to the memory of the little girl and everyone he had left back home if he forgot there suffering so quickly.

"You want to come back to the university?" Wally asked him.

"I will stay for a while." John said. "I have a lot to think about."

Wally nodded. "Okay, I'll see you later." He turned away slowly. "Good night, John."

"Good night, Wally. And thank you."

"Anytime."

Wally left, going to meet Officer Turpin, who had arranged to have him dropped off at the university. The sky was getting rapidly darker. The police had almost finished its work on the scene of the crime. Things were gradually settling down on the port.

John Jones sat gazing over the ocean. His thoughts were deep and dark, but beneath that darkness was something fairer, and something stronger. In his mind he saw a house, a home. He saw his friends and his family. He knew that night had changed him fundamentally, and he wondered where the choices he had taken would lead him. For a long time he sat there in silence as the memories played out in his mind.

* * *

She stumbled out of the room, leaving the group huddled around the bed with the small form lying pale and still on it. The tears in Diana's eyes blurred her vision, and she made her way blindly to the archway separating the rooms from the grounds. She leaned against the cold pillar and stared out into the distance.

Death. In a few hours, the word had become agonizingly real to her. The feeling constricting her chest sought some release, some logical explanation to make the event less damning and definite. She sought in vain for some hope to ease the pain.

She found nothing. The feeling grew with every passing second, building up inside her, making it a struggle to breathe. The tears splashed down her eyes in a silent stream. This was not some foe to be confronted and conquered. This was the reality of every living beings existence, the inescapable truth of mortality. For the first time Diana understood completely what death meant. There would be no better tomorrow for Millie, no hardships left to face, no hope to keep alive for a better future. A life had come to a stop, and nothing would change the fact that the little girl was gone. The air blew, unceasing and uncaring. The sun shone bright and indifferent. The world did not care, or perhaps understood the transience of existence better than she did. The world continued, yet there was one less child left to laugh and play in it.

And Diana thought of all the people she knew who had lost someone dear to them. From John to Bruce to Barda, to every child at New Genesis, most at an age at which they were too young to understand what true loss was. This was what it felt like to them. The wound, raw and savage and aching. Her hands touched the bracelets on her wrists, and she remembered the smile on Millie's face when she had worn them, the last time she had ever smiled. The memory brought fresh tears to Diana's eyes.

He came up to where she stood leaning against the pillar, her body shaking. She turned, and knew instinctively, even before she saw his face, that it was Clark. She buried her face in his chest, and he drew his arms around her protectively, the warmth of his body engulfing her after the cold pillar. The door of the room near them was open, and he could hear someone crying inside. He could not stop the tears from coming into his eyes as well. There was nothing to say, nothing to do in the face of the loss except hold onto each other as tightly as possible. The two stood locked together in silence in the gathering dusk, while the crying continued in the room.

* * *

_**In the cartoons, Wally West was a half witted comedian who ran fast and hit on women. That was pretty much it as far as depth of character went.**_

_**In the comics, Wally West is a married man with twins, takes his responsibilities as the Flash very seriously, and is one of the most powerful heroes, the only one that Superboy Prime is afraid of(A villain who makes Darkseid look like a not-so-attractive Tellytubby), and has been said to be as good a flash as Barry Allen(The biggest compliment a speedster can get). He has a sense of humour, but wouldn't dream of fooling around when there's work to be done.**_

_**Needless to say, I'm using the Wally West of the comics.**_


	18. Planning the holidays

PLANNING THE HOLIDAYS

It was towards the end of the semester that things gradually settled down at the university. The turbulent times that had marked the beginning of the semester were succeeded by a period of lethargy. The end term exams were over, and people were getting ready to return home for the winter holidays. The cold weather was proving a daunting force, and students traipsed around the campus huddled up within their warmest clothes.

Things had settled down since the incident with Protex and his team. John had received thanks from the city police for his assistance throughout the mission. He had attended Millie's funeral along with the others, and had had a long talk with High Father afterwards. He rarely made mention of the incident now, but over time had returned to being his usual stoic self.

Towards the end of the semester, students prepared to leave for their respective homes, and the college slowly emptied as the last day of the term drew closer.

One day, after coming back from his last class for the day, Clark was making his way through the cafeteria when he spotted Diana sitting alone at a table at the end of the hall. He made his way towards her. She was finishing her lunch, and they were among the last of the students left in the hall. The sleeves of Diana's jacket were pulled up slightly, revealing the silver bracelets that Millie had given her. Diana had worn them at Millie's funeral, and now very rarely took them off. If any other girl had worn them, she might have become the object of ridicule. As it was, several other girls were seen sporting similarly shaped silver bracelets, and the sight had become common at the university. Clark dropped into the seat in front of her.

"No classes?" He asked her when she looked up.

"We just had our last class." Diana said, with a somewhat forced smile. Clark knew she had been thinking about Millie again. "And yours?"

"We'll be finished tomorrow." Clark said. He leaned back in his chair. "So, you excited about going back to Boston?"

"Of course" Diana said, enthusiasm creeping into her voice. "It will be wonderful to see mother and Donna again. When will you be going back?"

"Three days from now." Clark said. "I'll stay with dad for a few days, and then we'll both go home together. It'll be the first Christmas we'll have together since I was sick, so it's kind of a big deal."

"That is nice." Diana smiled. "I hope you have a wonderful holiday, Clark."

"I just hope I'll live long enough to celebrate the holiday." Clark said moodily.

"What do you mean?" Diana asked.

"Well, one of the prerequisites for getting better from the illness was that I take complete rest for at least a year." Clark explained. "Somehow, I don't think my mother would consider getting into fights with terrorists and criminals very relaxing."

Diana's smile widened. "Well, I am sure your parents will be proud once they find out why you did those things. Even Officer Dan Turpin thinks highly of you for it."

"I'm not so sure." Clark said darkly. "Parents don't always see eye to eye with their children on what constitutes a good idea. When I was eleven years old, I thought learning to drive the tractor was a good idea. My father strongly disagreed with me, especially after I almost flattened the hen coop and then rammed the tractor into a tree. The upshot of that little experience was me in the pigsty with a sow that thought my fingers made a better meal than the medicine I was trying to feed it."

Diana shook her head in amusement. "I am sure this time will be different." She said. "Officer Turpin is a good man. And he respects you enormously. He will put in a good word for you."

"Yeah, well. I hope he respects me enough to put the good word directly to Dad." Clark said, twiddling his fingers nervously. "It all depends on who tells him about the incidents."

"Haven't you told him already?" Diana asked him in surprise.

"Do I want to be grounded directly I reach home and be confined to my room for the entire holidays?" Clark said. "No, I haven't told them. When I do, I'm planning on taking the nonchalant approach, possibly over a glass of wine, as I tell them I almost got strangled to death by a lunatic terrorist. Try to minimise the shock as much as possible."

"I didn't think you were the kind to fear a confession." Diana said with a small laugh. "I always thought of you as a brave person."

"Brave? No way. I'm a complete coward." Clark said, folding his hands across his chest. "I'm not ashamed to admit it. They say cowards die a thousand deaths. I say that gives you a pretty high chance of survival if you let the heroes take all the bullets to their chest."

"So what you did against Harvey Dent and Qlak Khent and the others wasn't bravery?" Diana asked.

"Of course not." Clark said. "I didn't even want to go to Dent's room in the first place. Bruce dragged me there. And then Dent and Luthor and Kalibak started beating the crap out of me."

"That is not what I saw in the video Bruce took." Diana protested.

"He cut out the embarrassing parts." Clark shrugged. "Like the part where he told them to just take his wallet and let him go."

"And Protex's gang?" Diana asked.

"Oh man, don't even get me started on that." Clark said, sitting back more comfortably in his seat. "I was scared enough about the police shooting us, thinking we're terrorists too. And that Protex guy looked like a Godzilla suffering from acute constipation, just itching to vent his frustrations. I was trying to hide behind Wally, but Arthur kept pushing me to the front."

"How unkind of him." Diana said, determinedly keeping a straight face.

"Yeah" Clark stared broodingly at the table. "Someday, I'll take him on a boat to a part of the sea with a lot of sharks in it. And then I'll throw him in the water. See how he likes it."

"Then it seems your exploits were not as heroic as I thought them to be." Diana sighed.

"Yeah, stuff like that always looks better on paper." Clark said. "That's why people don't like to think of their heroes having flaws. You think it'd be more fun watching a fat Bruce Wayne waddling about solving mysteries?"

"You mean that there is much more to heroes than just their heroics?" Diana asked.

"Exactly." Clark said. "We have so many other interests and aspiration, stuff that people don't know about. I like to sing along to Beyonce's Single Ladies. I like to watch Sesame Street. I like to collect antique paper clips. I'd like to meet the wizard of Oz someday, just to tell him he sucks. I was refused a cheerleading position in my high school."

"You tried out for the cheerleading position?" Diana managed to gurgle out.

"It was the only way I could think of to get into the after-game parties the jocks used to have." Clark shrugged.

"So you were unable to make the squad?" Diana asked, speaking calmly with an effort.

"No, I quit when the coach told me I couldn't wear those flouncy skirts that the other cheerleaders wear." Clark shrugged again. "He said something about mentally scarring the spectators for the rest of their lives."

Diana was by now holding onto the sides of the table, doubled up with laughter. Clark sat grinning in front of her.

"Goodness, it seems things never are as good in hindsight." She gasped, trying to compose herself.

"Them's the breaks." Clark shrugged, getting up and stretching. He leaned on the table as Diana tried to compose herself.

"I'm afraid I will never be able to see you in quite as impressive a light again, Clark." Diana sighed, sitting up straighter and looking up at him as she gave another low laugh.

"A price I'm willing to pay." Clark remarked. "I'm just glad to see you laugh again, Diana." The humorous twinkle was gone from his eyes. He was looking at her intently, with a hint of sadness. "You've been really depressed lately."

Diana smiled and placed her hand on Clark's. "Yes. And thank you for cheering me up, Clark. It is true that my mind has been in dark places these last few days. It was the feeling of helplessness that I could not get used to. Hopefully, it will get better eventually."

"Of course it will." Clark said steadily. "Spending time with your family will do you good."

"Yes, I will have less time for moping." Diana said, giving herself a mental shake. "I actually wanted to ask you something about that."

"What is it?" Clark said.

"It will be my birthday on the seventeenth of December." Diana said. "And my mother is hosting a grand party to officially celebrate my becoming a part of the world outside my school."

"I thought those traditions went out with the Victorian age." Clark remarked.

Diana smiled. "I know it is very old fashioned. But my mother insists on doing the thing in style." Diana felt oddly nervous now, a nervousness she had never felt before. "I have already invited Bruce. He has agreed to come to the party. I was wondering whether you would like to come as well."

"I could probably arrange with Bruce for the transportation." Clark looked at her doubtfully. "But I'm not sure, Diana. You and Bruce have been used to this kind of thing your whole life. But I've never been to these elaborate parties of the rich and famous kind, where every person you meet is a billionaire."

"Don't be silly, Clark. It is just like a normal party." Diana said with a laugh. "And my mother said I could invite up to two male friends. That is a big allowance by her standards."

Clark was still hesitating. "I don't think I'd fit in, Diana."

"You can fit in everywhere, Clark." Diana said firmly. "And I want to show mother the good people I have met at the university." Diana hesitated, but then added. "You can bring Lois if you want to."

"I don't think I could drag her all the way to Boston just to meet a friend of mine." Clark said doubtfully.

"No, Clark, I meant... as your date." Diana said in a curiously flat voice.

Clark stared her. "Lois and I aren't dating, Diana." he said quietly. "There's nothing going on between me and her. We're just friends."

Diana gazed at him, hoping her expression did not show the relief she was feeling.

"Then... I can understand if you don't want to come alone." She said slowly.

"I didn't say I didn't want to come." Clark said quietly "Do you want me to?" The question seemed oddly personal.

Diana stared at him for a moment. "Yes." Her voice was almost a whisper.

Clark smiled at her. "Then I'd love to be there."

They stared at each other for a moment. Then, they both broke into smiles. Diana was blushing, and Clark was also feeling strangely embarrassed. Another few seconds and years of self control would have gone out the window. But both felt a surge of happiness well up within themselves. Clark did not have the faintest idea what to say now.

"What are you guys doing here?" Wally's voice brought them back to reality. Diana pushed away the plate in front of her and Clark straightened himself as well.

Wally came up to them carrying a bag pack, with John Jones beside him carrying his other suit for him. Wally looked at the scene in front of him. "What's going on?" He asked with a knowing grin.

"Just talking." Clark replied while Diana stared at her plate to hide her smile. "So you're leaving now?"

"Yeah, I'll be home by tomorrow morning with my parents and my sister." Wally said, patting the bag he was carrying.

"Take care of yourself, Wally." Diana said, giving him a hug. "I hope you have a wonderful Christmas."

"You too, Diana." Wally said, returning the hug.

"And you, John?" Clark asked.

"I will be spending Christmas with Arthur." John said with a smile. "We will be leaving tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, and Kyle leaves the day after, and Bruce is going this afternoon." Wally added. He sighed. "I'll miss all you guys."

"We'll all miss each other." Clark said, clapping him on the back and giving him a hug. "But we'll be back before you know it. And I could do with some peace and quiet for now."

"Me too." Wally agreed. "So I'm off to the station. You guys coming?"

"Yeah, we've got nothing to do today." Clark said. Diana nodded. The hall had completely emptied by now. The four made their way out back into the cold.

* * *

Bruce drove the Lamborghini smoothly over the highway. The journey from Metropolis to Gotham was two hours long. He had left the college at six, after saying goodbye to the others, and had informed Alfred of his arrival.

As was usually the case when College was over, Bruce's thoughts turned to Gotham and the state he had last left it in. There were several factors in place last time that had worried him, not the least being rumours of the return of a certain venom addicted monster to Gotham. It had been hard enough to control him last time, their previous encounter very nearly costing Bruce his spine. And then there was Jean Paul, and the strange little man with the webbed hands and feet, who was capable of the most horrific brutality while calmly smoking a cigarette. It seemed as though every day Gotham became host to increasingly twisted and damaged minds, to the point where the city resembled a giant asylum where the lunatics made the rules.

Bruce came out of his dark thoughts as he saw a vaguely familiar figure walking on the side of the road. As he drew closer he recognised Selina Kyle trudging along slowly, a backpack over one shoulder.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, but then slowed down next to her and pulled down the window. Selina looked noticeably peeved, and turned to frown as the car pulled up next to her.

"What happened?" Bruce. "Why are you walking on the highway alone at this time?"

"You're the detective." Selina said, continuing to walk. "Why don't you figure it out?"

"You were on a bus until the conductor realised you didn't have a ticket and kicked you out?" Bruce ventured.

"Excellent, Holmes." Selina muttered. They continued in the same fashion for some time, with Selina walking and Bruce driving slowly next to her. Despite the cold, Bruce could see the beads of sweat on her forehead and the constant adjustment of her shoulder strap, and guessed she had been walking for a long time.

"I can give you a lift." He said abruptly. "I'm going to Gotham too."

"No thanks." Selina said shortly. "I'll manage."

Bruce shrugged and moved his car forward. In the rear view mirror he saw her pause to move the bag to her other shoulder and wipe away the sweat on her forehead.

Bruce brought the car to a stop and reversed slowly until he was next to Selina again.

"Get in." He said. 'You'll never get to Gotham as this rate."

Selina hesitated, looking at the road stretching out in front of her. She slowly opened the door of the car and got in, throwing her bag in the back. She could not repress a sigh of relief as she sank back into the leathered upholstery. Bruce restarted the engine and the car moved forward smoothly.

"Thanks." Selina said after an uncomfortable moment of silence. "And I'm sorry about the rudeness back there. I've been lugging that bag around for half an hour."

"No problem." Bruce said, staring at the road in front of them. "We'll be in Gotham in about an hour."

"Great" Selina sank back in her seat and stared around herself. "This is a really amazing car."

"Thanks" Bruce said' "It serves its function."

There was silence while Selina tried to think of something else to say.

"So... how'd your exams go?" She asked.

"Well enough." Bruce said, his eyes on the road. "Yours?"

"All right, nothing to write home about." Selina shrugged. She glanced at the road and remarked, "I've never met anyone who was in a hurry to get to Gotham that he's go there at night in this kind of weather."

"I have business I need to attend there." Bruce said. "And you're going there at this time too."

"I have business of my own to see to, as well." Selina said with a shrug. "Business which will be more easily conducted at night."

"That is the case with the majority of work in Gotham." Bruce muttered.

The rest of the trip passed in much the same way, with Selina trying to make small talk and Bruce's brief replies. Selina noticed that Bruce's replies became shorter and more monosyllabic the closer they got to Gotham. The city looked its usual dark and dreary self, with only a handful of citizens out in the gathering dusk who kept looking over their shoulder's nervously, as though afraid of being mugged right on the main street. Several gangs lounged at different corners of the street, all of them turning to watch intently as the Lamborghini passed by them. Bruce's eyes had darkened and there was a muscle working in his jaw as he drove.

"You know, this city is a great example of that 'survival of the toughest' phrase." Selina commented. "Even in the parts that have been supposedly gentrified. It sure teaches you to think on your feet all the time. That's why I always thought this was the right type of city for, you know, certain kinds of people. It's kind of like the old west they tell about in stories, where you take what you can get. Opportunism and all that."

"It's a malignant, haemorrhaging cesspool of filth and corruption decaying deeper into ruin everyday because of the infestation of the criminal classes." Bruce said, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Oh" Selina said slowly. "Well, yes. I guess that's another way of looking at it."

"You've lived here all your life?" Bruce asked her.

"Yeah" Selina nodded. "And you?"

"Yes." Bruce said. He glanced at the buildings to the side of the road. "One way or the other, we're both the products of this city." He turned to look at her. "Do you ever think about leaving this place for good?"

"Leave forever?" Selina considered, then shook her head. "Nah. I know it's malignant and haemorrhaging and all the other things you said, but it's still home. I've grown used to living here."

Bruce nodded. Again there was silence as they left the outskirts of the city and entered deeper into central Gotham.

"Where to from here?" Bruce asked.

"Left from the intersection." Selina said, sitting up in her chair. "Do you know where The Narrows is?"

"Yes" Bruce said, who had memorised the entire layout of the city. They drove swiftly through the city and soon entered the area where Selina's house was.

The houses around them were not brand new, and had obviously been made in haste, but they were large and solid, and still retained a semi respectable air.

"This is my house, right here." Selina said, pointing to the fifth house from the right. It was eight p.m. by now, and the sky had become completely black with not a star in sight. Bruce stopped the car in front of the house. It was a relatively small house and had gone through extensive repairs, but it looked sturdy and comfortable. Selina retrieved her bag from the back of the car and got out of the car.

"Well" Selina said, adjusting the strap of the bag and looking at Bruce a little uncertainly. "Thanks for the lift, Bruce. It really helped me out a lot. I guess I'll see you when we get back to college."

"Take care." Bruce nodded. He restarted the engine and moved the car forward. In the rear view mirror he could see Selina standing in front of the house watching him.

Selina waited until the car had disappeared into the night, then swung the bag over her shoulder and walked past the house onto the street behind it. This part of the city was of much more dubious reputation.

She crossed the street and made her way to the house at the end of the row of dilapidated structures. The building was in terrible condition, with a strange, slimy substance flowing out of the open manhole next to it, carrying a noxious smell with it. The roof was badly damaged, completely missing timber at some points that had to be covered with tarpaulin. The shutter creaked uselessly on its side.

Selina walked up the stairs to the front door and took out her key. The rusty lock refused at first to allow the key inside it. "Come on." Selina muttered irritably as she tried to force the lock inside.

"So this is where you live." The voice came from behind her, causing her to give a startled leap and drop the keys.

She turned to see Bruce looking up at the house, his hands in his pockets.

"What are you doing here?" She exclaimed as she bent to pick up the keys.

"I saw you stand outside that other house for a long time without going inside." Bruce shrugged. "So I stopped and watched you. Then you came to this side, and it's not a very safe place at this time. So I decided to follow you to make sure you were safe."

Selina glared at him. "Well, so now you know." She said, indicating the house. "This is where I really live."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of." Bruce ventured. "It's got a certain… fractured appeal."

The two stared at each other in silence for a second. "Well, I just wanted to make sure you were safe." Bruce said finally, taking a step back. "Good night, Selina."

Selina stared at him for one more second. "Good night, Bruce." She said at last. Bruce turned around and made his way back across the street, and Selina turned back slowly to her house.

Bruce made his way back with rapid strides, his mind on the various renovations that needed to take place in that part of Gotham. A figure appeared in the darkness in front of him, making its way towards him. When he was only a few feet away, the figure pulled out a switchblade and pointed it at him menacingly.

"Don't even try to run away." The man with the switchblade growled. "Just hand over your cash and-"

Bruce had been walking forward rapidly and suddenly he stumbled, cannoning into the surprised robber. The blade was out of his hand before he was even aware of it. His hand was twisted at a brutal angle, causing him to howl in agony. Bruce kept him in that position while he picked up the switchblade and tossed it into the gutter.

"The only reason I'm not taking you to the police station is because I have bigger fish to fry tonight." Bruce said, his hand still holding onto the would-be robber. "But if I ever see you in this part of the city again, I will personally see to it that you get a year behind bars. Are we clear?"

"Ow! Ok, I'm sorry, man. I'm sorry." The thief yelped, trying futilely to get away. "I won't do it again, man, I swear."

"Good. Start running then." Bruce said, releasing him. The man took off as fast as his legs could carry him.

Bruce turned to gaze back at the street, and stood staring broodingly into the night.

* * *

_**The geography of Gotham and Metropolis has been changed slightly from canon to suit the story. Not that anyone cares...**_


	19. Strange encounter of the priveleged kind

STRANGE ENCOUNTERS OF THE PRIVELEGED KIND

On the seventeenth of December, Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne were making their way through snow laden streets to the Marriot hotel in Boston. It had been impossible to come earlier, and they were only there for the night to attend Diana's birthday party.

"That's where the party is being held."Bruce said, pointing to a magnificent hotel that came slowly into view as they drove down the road.

"It's huge." Clark said, impressed. "Is the whole city going to be there?"

"I rather think that would detract from the quality of the party." Bruce said. "It's only supposed to be the crème de la crème of society. They need room to accommodate all the inflated egos that go with such a gathering."

"You realise you're one of them?" Clark said with a raised brow.

"Don't remind me." Bruce said. "When I go to these kinds of parties, I often find myself wishing that stress from listening to voluminous self glorification emanating from pompous gasbags could be held as reasonable grounds for large scale manslaughter."

Clark laughed. "I wish we could've stayed longer. I've never been to Boston before."

"I have several plans in motion in Gotham that need a personal touch." Bruce said. "You'll be heading back to Smallville after this?"

"Yeah, first thing tomorrow morning." Clark said. "The Manor for you?"

"Of course." Bruce said. "I'd be there today taking care of business if it wasn't for the party."

"Tragic victimisation by cruel circumstances." Clark said dryly. Bruce gave him a look.

They arrived at the posh, ultra modern hotel, where Bruce had booked separate rooms for them. The interior was as stylish and polished as the exterior, the manager greeting them with a beatific smile. The checking in ceremony was quickly finished, and soon they were standing in Bruce's room.

"Might as well start getting ready." Bruce said. "We cut it pretty close coming here driving through the snow."

"Right, we don't want to offend Diana's mother by being late."Clark said, turning to the door.

"Yes, it wouldn't be conducive to your relationship if Diana's mother takes a dislike to you from the start." Bruce agreed.

Clark turned back and stared at Bruce. "What do you mean?"

Bruce stared back. "Come on, Clark, it's quite an obvious matter." He said. "I admit I was unusually obtuse at first, but Diana likes you. And I realise now that you like her too."

Clark sighed, turning fully to face him. "Bruce, I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He said. "I didn't realise my own feelings before. And when I did, you were already going on a date with her. And I didn't know what to say because I didn't know how you felt about her after that date. I didn't know what to say."

"No, that's understandable. I'm not angry with you." Bruce put his hands in his pockets. "Has there been some progress on that front?"

Clark hesitated. "I think so. That's why I came here." He looked at Bruce. "Look, I'm really sorry. I should have told you. I don't want you to think I was behind your date with Diana not working out or anything."

Bruce looked at Clark for a moment. "I'm obsessive and pessimistic and self involved." he said abruptly.

Clark stared at him uncertainly. "What does that have to do with this?"

"That's why I and Diana did not work." Bruce said. "Not because of you, Clark. Because of my personality."

Clark continued to look at him uncertainly. "Are you expecting me to say that you're not obsessive and pessimistic and self involved?"

"I'm not looking for sympathy, Clark." Bruce said. "But I've come to realise since that date just different Diana and I are. It's not a problem when we're friends, but if we'd tried for more." Bruce shook his head. "We never would've stopped arguing. She's as stubborn as I am."

"She could've given you a run for your money." Clark agreed with a slight smile. "You two would've been at it all day long."

"And how long would either of us had stood it?" Bruce said. "A month? A year? More likely the rest of our lives. It's not like I'm the type to ever go back on something I decide to do."

"Like taking care of Gotham." Clark interjected with a knowing look.

"Exactly." Bruce said. "And I can't stop Diana from following her dreams either." He looked at Clark. "And then I realised she's never as relaxed as when she's around you."

Clark looked at him carefully and said slowly, "So you're saying it's okay with you if I ask Diana out?"

"I'd say you both have the best chance of making it work, long term." Bruce said. "And I never intended to be any sort of a barrier between you two."

Clark's relaxed visibly. "Thank you, Bruce." He said quietly. "It means a lot to me."

Bruce nodded. "You're welcome."

There was a long pause, and again, Clark looked at Bruce uncertainly. "Are we supposed to hug each other or something?"

"No" Bruce said hurriedly, going into the bathroom.

Clark looked at the door of the bathroom for a moment before turning away. A weight that had been on his mind for some time had lifted, and he went to his room with a lighter heart.

In his room, Clark opened his bag and took out the red box with the bow on top of it. From inside the box he extracted a small statue of a bird.

The statue was carved beautifully, with exquisitely coloured feathers bedecking the bird stretching its wings in flight. Clark had seen it on display in one of the shops in Kansas, and had realised that it would make a wonderful present for Diana on her birthday. The cost of the statue was three hundred dollars, too much for Clark's purse since he did not want to spend the money his parents had given him for college during the holidays.

So for the last week before the party, Clark had worked odd jobs and part time for any store willing to hire him. It helped that there was little work to do at the farm. The store owners had known Clark since he had been a child and knew him to be an honest and hard working person, and were glad of his help for the more strenuous jobs. At the end of the week, Clark had managed to get together four hundred and fifty dollars, leaving enough cash for presents for his parents as well. He had gone to the store the day before leaving for Boston and purchased the statue, with a feeling of excitement as he imagined Diana's pleasure upon receiving the beautiful sculpture.

But now he looked doubtfully at the figure. It was still beautiful, but it somehow did not seem as expensive in the hotel as it had in Kansas. In fact, Clark could not suppress the suspicion that it looked distinctly cheap, specially compared to the polished furniture and elegant designs that surrounded him at the moment.

He sighed and placed the figure back in its box. In any case, there was nothing he could do about it now. Besides, he was sure Diana would appreciate the gift for its beauty. Placing the box on his bed, he turned his attention to his wardrobe. His mind was awash with fresh misgivings as he opened the closet and took out his tux.

The tuxedo had belonged to his grandfather and handed down to his father, who had worn it on every special occasion in Smallville. Clark had always intensely admired the tux, and had dreamed of the day when he would be allowed to wear it, and become a proper gentleman like his father. Finally, he had gathered the courage to ask his father to lend him the tux for the party. His father had agreed readily with a twinkle in his eye. Now as Clark pulled on the tuxedo, he could not help but admit that the reality was substantially different from his fantasies.

For one thing the tux was too small. Clark had never before fully appreciated how much taller he was compared to his father. The sleeves barely reached his wrists, and it was only after much wriggling that he was able to get the shoulders comfortably inside the coat. Even then it felt tight.

Clark looked at himself doubtfully in the mirror. It did not look too bad, especially if you didn't notice that the shoes were distinctly old and worn that no amount of polishing could manage to look glossy. All in all, the effect was not as impressive as he had hoped it would be, but it wasn't terrible either. Clark glanced at the clock, and saw that it was time to leave for the party. He put the box containing the statue in his pocket, and went to Bruce's room. The door was open and he entered.

Bruce was standing in front the mirror checking the seam on his pants. He was clothed in a superbly cut and glossy new tuxedo that managed to frame his body and show off his broad shouldered physique without appearing too tight. Diamond studded shoes and cuff links glinted on his person as he turned slightly to study the back of his suit. The dark hair was gelled back at a stylish angle and seemed to be as shiny as his sleek leather shoes.

He looked every inch the handsome young aristocrat that he was.

"Ready to go?" He asked as Clark stood staring at him.

"Is that a new tux?" Clark stared at the elegant figure before him.

"Yes. I outgrew the old ones, so Alfred ordered a dozen more from Paris." Bruce opened his cupboard and took out a leather case.

"Is that for Diana?" Clark asked, entering the room and closing the door behind him.

"Just a little birthday present." Bruce opened the case to reveal a beautiful set of gold and diamond earrings. "Not terribly imaginative, I know. But they'll look good on her. What do you think?"

"Yeah, they're really nice." Clark managed. He fingered the box in his pocket for a moment as he stared at the earrings.

"So let's get going." Bruce said, leading the way out of the room. The two made their way to the hotel parking space, where a Lamborghini waited for them.

Clark's mind was full as they made their way to the party, and neither spoke much as the car moved smoothly through the traffic. They arrived on time at the hotel, which was decorated brightly but tastefully. Several expensive cars streamed around them, disgorging men and women of varying ages, the one thing common to them all being the air of opulence that surrounded them.

Bruce handed the car keys over to the valet, and Clark saw money exchange hands discreetly.

"Did you just tip the man a hundred dollars?" He asked Bruce as they made their way to the main hall.

"It means extra special service for us." Bruce shrugged. "I tipped a valet three hundred dollars once to take care of my Ashton Martin when I was in a dangerous part of Gotham. He guarded the car with his life." Clark did not say anything.

The two made their way to the entrance, where an impressively dressed man who looked like a relic of the cold war days stood barring their way with a list in his hand.

"Party of two, Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent." Bruce said. The guard's eyes strayed for a moment to the cuffs on Clark's tux, which had unfortunately become frayed since he had tried to stretch them over the ends of his wrists, and then to his shoes. But then he checked their names on his list and opened the door for them with a deep bow.

The scene inside the room was even more impressive than Clark had expected it to be. Men and women dressed in the best and most fashionable clothes of the season talked and laughed as they ate their way through the carefully prepared appetizers and hors d'oeuvres. There were several people of their age also present, and each looked like they had stepped out of a fashion magazine. Clark could not help but reflect that he and Bruce must stand out the most, with Bruce's tux contrasting sharply against his shabby clothes. The fact that they were the two best looking and most well built young men present there escaped his notice.

"Isn't that Diana's mother?" Clark muttered to Bruce, indicating the tall and stately woman talking to a short and pudgy man. "I recognise her from the pictures Diana showed me. Should we go and talk to her?"

"I think we should wait for Diana to show up first."Bruce replied. "From the impression I received from Diana, her mother might be less than cordial towards us unless Diana's there to break the ice."

"Okay" Clark thrust his hands in his pockets and stared around the room. "Where is Diana, anyway?"

"This is her coming out party." Bruce shrugged. "She's probably supposed to make a grand entrance later."

"Excuse me." A slim, impeccably dressed man had walked up to Bruce. "But aren't you Bruce Wayne?"

"Yes" Bruce said, switching on the smile he reserved for parties.

"I'm Alan Trathe." The man extended his hand. "I own a chain of steel factories across America, and I've done business with Lucius Fox at Wayne Enterprises in the past. Lucius pointed you out to me once, but unfortunately we couldn't meet."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you now." Bruce said, shaking his hand. "Lucius only does business with the very best. It's always nice to meet the people responsible for keeping our company running."

Mr. Trathe steered Bruce towards a group of his friends who were also interested in meeting the elusive Mr. Wayne. Soon Bruce was in their midst talking business and the direction his company was going to take in the future. Clark stood a little to the side sipping a drink and scanning the room for Diana.

A spectacularly handsome young man with long, wavy golden hair and a slim build entered the hall, his eyes roaming through the crowds. He walked slowly into the room and, seeing Clark standing alone, made his way over to him.

"Excuse me." The newcomer said in a low, pleasant voice a hint of an accent. "Could you tell me where Diana Prince might be?"

"She hasn't come down yet." Clark replied. "But she'll be here any time now."

"Good." The stranger held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Alexis Mastrolakis."

Clark shook his hand. "Clark Kent." He said. "Nice to meet you."

"You too." Alexis leaned back against a table and surveyed the room again. "So how did you get an invitation to the party?"

"I'm a friend of Diana's from college." Clark said.

"Really!" Alexis looked at him a new interest. "I confess I have never met Miss Prince. My father owns a few mills and industries on Crete, and knew Mrs. Hippolyta Prince from those days."

"So your father didn't come?" Clark asked him.

"No, the acquaintance was really quite ancient and not quite strong enough a reason for my father to come all the way to Boston."

"And yet, you're here." Clark looked at Alexis questioningly.

Alexis gave a low laugh. "My reason might seem farfetched to you. I've been told I'm a hopeless romantic. But I just couldn't help it. I'm here on the strength of a photograph." Alexis shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I saw a picture of Diana Prince in an old Album from when she was sixteen, and decided that I just had to come and see her." He leaned towards Clark. "In confidence, Clark, is she really as good looking as she seemed in the picture?"

"I think you will be the best judge of that." Clark remarked with a smile. "But I don't think you'll be disappointed."

"Well, of course it's not really a big issue." Alexis said, inclining his head with a grin. "I'm sure she is perfectly charming. But the picture was really remarkable for a girl her age, and..." Suddenly Alexis's voice drifted away, his eyes riveted at the top of the staircase at the end of the hall. "And I see the picture did not do her justice." He finished in a low voice.

Just then, Mrs. Prince announced. "I thank you all for coming to my daughter's party. And now, may I present my eldest daughter, Diana Prince."

Clark turned, as did most of the other guests. Diana was descending the staircase with slow, graceful steps. She was dressed in a long, dark blue dress of perfect cut and design, and wore a few pieces of simple but expensive jewellery. Her hair had been tied loosely at the back leaving several dark tresses to float gently in the wind as she smiled at her guests.

She looked beyond beautiful.

Clark stood staring at her while the guests nearest to her stepped up to introduce themselves and wish her happy birthday. Diana smiled and shook hands and made her way slowly to where Bruce and Clark were standing.

Bruce walked up to Diana first. "Happy Birthday, Diana." He said with a smile. "You look gorgeous." He presented her with the earrings. "And, at the risk of infuriating Clark." He bent forward and gave her a small peck on her cheek.

Diana laughed. "Thank you, Bruce." She said, giving him a hug. "I'm so glad you could come."

Slowly, the crowd parted in front of him, and now Diana came directly up to where Clark was standing, the smile on her lips growing wider with every step. Clark cleared his throat and tried to stop staring at her.

"Hap -" He began.

"Miss Prince." Alexis stepped in front of Clark with a deep bow. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Alexis Mastrolakis from Crete Island. My father has conducted a large amount of business with your mother in the past."

"Of course." Diana smiled at him, extending her hand. "My mother told me you were coming. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"My dear lady, believe me when I tell you the pleasure is entirely mine." Alexis said, kissing the back of her hand lightly with another deep bow. "I came expecting to meet the daughter of a woman my father always held in the highest regard. I did not realise I would be meeting the human form of the goddess Aphrodite as well."

Diana laughed. "You are very kind." She said. "The charm and manners of the Greeks do not seem to be exaggerations in your case."

"The truth has little to do with being polite." Alexis said with a smile. "Permit me to give you a small token of my admiration." From the inside of his tux, he extracted a large, leather bound case. He opened it to reveal a dazzlingly handsome diamond necklace easily worth half a million dollars. Clark stared at the necklace, feeling dazed.

"Why, it is beautiful." Diana exclaimed. "But I cannot accept such an expensive gift on such short acquaintance, Alexis."

"Not even to gladden the heart of your humble guest?" Alexis asked with a smile. "True beauty and grace such as yours deserves only the finest gifts from all the lands. And I can think of no more delightfully moulded neck to show off this necklace to its full advantage."

Diana smiled. "Well, my deepest thanks, Alexis, for such a beautiful present." She took the case and he bowed again slightly. "Please enjoy the rest of the party."

"I will." Alexis smiled. "And I look forward to having another little chat with you soon. Permit me now leave to pay my respects to your mother." With a final bow and a smile he left.

Now Diana stood in front of Clark as he stood staring at her, his mind seeming to have frozen solid. Diana was too glad to see him to notice anything strange.

"Clark" She said happily, throwing her arms around him with an abandon that caused her mother, who was watching her from a distance, to raise her eyebrows. "I am so happy you came."

"Happy birthday, Diana." Clark said, his voice sounding strange. One hand tightened in his pocket around the wrapped package. "And many happy returns of the day. I..." Clark tried to speak, and choked.

He tried again. "I... forgot to bring you a present..." His voice sounded strangely distant. "...I'm sorry."

His grip loosened around the package and he slowly brought out his empty hand.

"That is fine, Clark." Diana said happily. 'I am just happy you came." She hugged him again impulsively. Then she remembered that every eye in the hall was fixed on her, and stepped back hastily.

Before they could talk further, Diana was swept away into another tide of well wishers, and she moved away from Clark with a final backward smile which Clark tried his best to respond to. The great hall suddenly seemed to have shrunken. Clark found himself needing more space. Bruce was watching him through narrowed eyes. But Clark did not feel like talking at the moment. He made his way back to the main entrance.

"I felt like getting some fresh air." Clark said to the old relic standing guard outside the gate.

"Very good, sir." The man said with a courteous bow. "I shall let you in when you are ready to return to the party."

"Thanks" Clark muttered. One hand went up to loosen his collar. He seemed to be having a hard time breathing. He stood under the arch of the hotel front and leaned against the solid marble pillar, the refreshing breeze blowing gently through his hair. For a long time he stood there, staring into the distance.

"Enjoying the party, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce turned to see who was speaking to him. A young woman with bright red hair and fierce green eyes was regarding him with barely concealed hostility.

"Immensely." Bruce said with a smile, while mentally going through the list of females who had felt jilted through the years when he failed to return their calls. As far as he could remember he had never met her before. "I'm sorry, have we met before?"

"I'm Artemis." She threw the name out almost as a challenge, as though daring him to make something of it. Bruce could think of four separate cracks he could have made regarding the situation, but refrained. Now he understood the girl's strange behaviour. "Diana told me about you. The man hating alpha female, right?"

Artemis frowned. "Diana also told me you suffered from a poor sense of humour."

"They can't all be gems." Bruce remarked. "What can I do for you?"

"You're friends with Clark Kent." Artemis said. "I want to know what he is like."

"Why?"

"Because Diana is falling for him." Artemis said bluntly. "She can be incredibly naive. I want to make sure she isn't making a mistake. From all accounts, you are a reasonably logical person. What would you say Kent is really like?"

"What's the point?" Bruce shrugged. "You seem determined to hate him no matter what. And you don't seem the type who changes her mind, no matter how logical the argument. We've never met before, yet you seem to regard me in an unfavourable light already."

"Actually, that is because I have heard plenty about you, and you're the type of male whom I dislike the most." Artemis said. "Rich, arrogant, completely wrapped up in your own importance and interests, much like the majority of men. That is why I dislike your gender."

"And I dislike people who jump to conclusions based on circumstantial evidence." Bruce said. "Because of a handful of experiences in your life concerning some men, you've labelled the whole gender conniving narcissists?"

"Even that seems unduly courteous in some cases." Artemis said stiffly. "So you won't tell me anything about Kent?"

Music had started and the centre of the hall cleared for dancing. Bruce stared at the young girl for a moment, then held out his hand. "Would you care to dance?"

Artemis stared at him in astonishment, suspicion battling curiosity. Slowly, she placed her hand in his.

"Sure you know how to dance?" Bruce asked pleasantly.

"Ballroom dancing was a part of our education." Artemis said stiffly, her hand iron stiff in Bruce's palm.

The music swelled as the two made their way to the dance floor. Artemis was staring at Bruce as though daring him to make a wrong move. Bruce gave her a courtly smile in return.

The two stood among the many who had joined them on the floor, couples of varying shapes and sizes. Arms around each other, they began to dance slowly to the music. Bruce admitted that Artemis could dance well, even as Artemis noted the grace and dexterity of her partner.

"So you are against Diana dating Clark?" Bruce asked her.

"I'm against her dating _anyone._" Artemis said, as they moved slowly through the crowd together. "Diana is still very innocent. She's like a child when it comes to judging people. She thinks everyone is nice and good inside if you dig deep enough. It would be so easy for a man to take advantage of her, and then leave her for another woman. Or they stay with her and mistreat and abuse her for the rest of her life."

"Yes, wife beater and playboy are the first things that come to mind when I think of Clark." Bruce said dryly. "I think I remember him throwing a child's kitten off a tree once. Or maybe rescuing it. One of the two. So you think all men are, how do you say it? filthy, chauvinistic pigs?"

"I know it." Artemis said coldly. "All you men are driven purely by your basic instincts. All you care about is satisfying your animal desires. Even scientists agree that dolphins are actually smarter than men in some areas. Doesn't that say it all?"

"I suppose it does, because last time I checked, a dolphin came up with E equals MC square, and Beethoven stole his symphonies from a talented baboon." Bruce said. Artemis frowned, and Bruce again smiled. "I love how you hard core feminist types like to shout about your beliefs by tearing down the opposite sex and ignoring all the good it's done."

"We would've done it too, if we hadn't been repressed all through history." Artemis hissed at him. "Or would you say that's our fault too?"

"I never said I approved of the way women have been treated in history." Bruce said. "But that is in the past now. And now you're against your friend meeting a good man without even knowing anything about him. Narrow minded, don't you think?"

"Shrewd and realistic, I would say." Artemis retorted. "It's not narrow minded to see how bad a situation can be. Pessimism can actually help make the case clearer."

"Except when it does the opposite and clouds your judgement." Bruce said. "Believe me when I tell you that you are nowhere near as pessimistic and logical as I am, and even though I don't mention the fact too often, I can guarantee you that Clark Kent is the most decent and caring man I have ever known. Instead of calling Diana naive, you should give her credit for understanding that about him, instead of falling for the wealth or looks of the other men she's met, something that she could have done all too easily. That's part of what makes her who she is."

Bruce's eyes were serious and intense now, his words giving her a pause. They stood close together, and Artemis was suddenly very aware of how handsome he was. She rarely allowed men anywhere near her, and none of them had been quite like this one. Without intending to, her heart speeded up slightly.

The music had grown faster, with only young couples left on the floor. Bruce and Artemis wove around the floor at an ever increasing pace, neither taking their eyes off each other.

The pace quickened till it thundered through the room. The music fast, the dance moves even faster. Artemis was still going strong, sure that Bruce's big, burly frame could not handle the speed and nimbleness now required.

But suddenly Bruce stepped up closer, his hand tightening around her waist. And Artemis could not help but gasp. He had increased the speed of their moves, and she was virtually swept off her feet and flown across the polished floor. His legs moved swiftly and silently, and she could barely keep up.

Finally, one last blaring crescendo, a final encore. Bruce dipped Artemis back over his arm, and the song finished.

Couples sighed and moved off the stage as the music died down. Artemis was still bent back on Bruce's arm, his handsome face inches away from hers as she stared up at him, her cheeks suddenly flushed as she panted slightly.

"It wouldn't be fair to paint all men the same colour." He said. "It could be possible to find some among them that you can tolerate, wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose." Artemis said, their eyes locked together.

Bruce's face moved closer to hers. "So wouldn't you say it's possible that even you could find some man who you would consider being with."

"Exceptions can be allowed, I think." Their lips moved towards each other.

But suddenly Bruce drew her up. She stared at him in confusion.

"Well, sorry. You're not my type." he gave her a wink as he smiled and moved away from her. "I prefer brunettes."

He left her as she stood staring, outraged, at his receding back. "You-" She began. The rest of her words were drowned as the music swelled again for another number and couples moved onto the floor again.

Mrs. Hippolyta Prince sat the head of one of the long tables as the guests around her laughed and chatted and prepared themselves for dinner. Diana sat next to her, making small talk to her neighbours and displaying the manners and poise that were expected of her. The party could now definitely be considered a success.

For the most part. When Diana had asked her permission to invite her college friends to the party, Hippolyta's first impulse had been to refuse. But she knew it would antagonise her daughter if she said no without having an actual reason. So she had permitted two guests. Now she saw those two sitting at a table next to theirs. Diana had tried to arrange for them all to sit together, but there were many other important people for whom the honour of sitting with the host and her daughter had been reserved. Hippolyta now studied the two guests her daughter had invited. Diana had introduced her to them briefly before dinner had commenced, and now Hippolyta mused upon what she had observed.

Bruce Wayne was what she had expected him to be. Courteous and reserved, and with the right amount of restrained friendliness these occasions required. He had grown up in this kind of a setting, and knew perfectly well how to play his part. But past the mask that social etiquette required, his entire body language was closed and defensive, as though determined not to let any suggestion of emotional or mental weakness out. His good looks and manners, not to mention the fabulous wealth that belonged to him, had got him widespread attention among the guests. But he did not talk to any of them a moment longer than he had to. A loner by nature. She was aware of the tragedy that had occurred early in his life, and the effect it must have had on his mind. A brooding, pessimistic person. Hippolyta had been afraid that very shadow Bruce lived under might have attracted Diana towards him. Diana was a warm hearted person, and might decide that she would the one to take him out of the shadows. And that would have been a disaster. Hippolyta was aware of the workings of brilliant mind and the obsession that results from having it. Diana had mentioned that about him as well. Bruce Wayne had one interest in life. To protect Gotham. Everything else, even the people in his life, would always come in second.

Diana, in the romance of youth, might have believed she could help him with letting go of his obsession. But playing the role of emotional nursemaid to anyone for years was a trying task, and often led to resentment on both sides. Long time relationships built around changing your partner only led to friction and bitterness in the long run. Hippolyta was glad Diana did not seem interested in Bruce that way.

Then there was Clark Kent.

Hippolyta had been uneasy about him from the start. Diana had mentioned him to her. Repeatedly. From the way that she had reiterated at least four times what a kind and gentle and helpful person he was, it was obvious how anxious Diana was that Clark makes a good impression on her, and how deeply impressed she herself was with him.

And now that she saw him in person, her suspicions remained. From the way Diana spoke about him, she saw that Clark was the type of larger-than-life person who gave one the impression of being capable of anything. If Clark told you he could fly beyond the stars and bring you back a piece of the sun, you would be inclined to believe him. The kind of personality that could be overpowering. Diana had told her that he was a good leader, and very popular among the other students. Hippolyta had been afraid he might display the arrogance and pride that usually went with that kind of popularity, but that did not seem to be the case. Nevertheless, it was the kind of power that might be very appealing to a young girl.

As Hippolyta watched, Clark self consciously pulled down the sleeve of his jacket. The little action gave Hippolyta an inkling of the state of things, and she understood suddenly why Clark seemed ill at ease and subdued.

It was just as well, Hippolyta mused, that Clark understood the difference in his station in life to Diana's. In fairy stories, those differences might seem romantic. In real life, they only meant that Clark had nothing to offer her daughter. The sooner he realised that on his own, the better for all involved.

After the meal was finished came the last stages of the party as most of the guests prepared to leave. Only then did Hippolyta get a chance to talk to the two boys.

"It was a pleasure to meet you both." Mrs. Prince said, shaking Bruce's hand and giving him a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "I am glad you were able to be here."

"The pleasure was all mine." Bruce smiled. "It was a spectacular affair, Mam. Thank you for inviting us."

"Yes, we really appreciate it." Clark added as she shook his hand as well, his voice slightly flat. "It was an interesting evening."

"I am sure it was." Mrs. Prince said. "I am glad my daughter found such well mannered men at her college. Men who know how to always be respectful towards their _friends._"

She laid extra stress on the last word, and as she looked at Clark her smile slipped and was replaced by a look that combined suspicion, warning and cold censure in equal measure. It was a look that frequently shrivelled the other person in seconds under their imperious gaze.

Clark met the look unflinchingly. Hippolyta was aware, from what Diana had told her about him, that Clark had stared down terrorists and maniacs without blinking. Apparently, he was not the type to be intimidated by looks. Despite herself, Hippolyta decided there must be some good in the boy. But he still looked depressed.

"Thank you both for coming." Diana said, who had been hovering in the background till now, watching her mother sizing up her friends. "I wish you both could stay longer and meet my sister once she recovers from her fever."

"We wish we could stay, too." Bruce smiled, walking forward to give her a hug. "But we both have to get back home to care of some business. So for now, take care, Diana, and thanks for inviting us to the party."

Diana turned to Clark, who gave her a strained smile and said, "Yeah, thanks." thrusting out his hand to her, which she shook slowly. Diana felt more confused than ever as he turned towards the door and walked out without looking back.

"They are... acceptable." Hippolyta said as the two left. She turned to Diana. "Your behaviour tonight was commendable as well, Diana. The maids will be finished cleaning up soon and then we can retire." She left to see off the other guests.

Outside, the two boys walked in silence towards their car.

"Well, this was a first." Bruce finally broke the silence. "A social situation where I was friendlier than you."

Clark did not reply.

The party over, the last of the guests had left and the hall was empty save Diana and some maids engaged in clearing out the room. Mrs. Prince had gone to see a senator off to his car.

Diana sighed as she looked around the room. The party could be considered a success and all in all, she was happy. Except.

Except for Clark's behaviour, which had been puzzling her all night. He had barely said two words to her after the initial greeting, and had seemed restless and ill at ease all night.

Ever since that day in the cafeteria when they had come so close to kissing, Diana had been looking forward to the day they could meet outside college, and discuss the feelings that they both obviously shared. Now when the time had come to do so, Clark seemed to be avoiding the issue. She felt more hurt than she cared to admit. He had almost seemed to be avoiding her throughout the party, although there were many people in the way that it was hard to be sure. He did not seem to have been particularly enjoying himself either. What was wrong? Had he changed his mind about them? Would he call her over the holidays? Or should she call him? Or should she wait till they met in college to thresh it out face to face?

"Miss?" A maid came up to Diana holding a small red box with a bow on top. "I found this at the end of the gifts table. It doesn't say whom it's from."

Diana opened the box and extracted a statue of a bird stretching its wings in flight. It was a simple yet elegant design, and had the charm of novelty that mass produced products lacked. The statue did not show wealth but it did show taste.

"It is beautiful." Diana said. "Perhaps the card fell on the floor?"

"I checked, miss." The maid said. "There was no card anywhere. It was just stuffed between two bigger boxes at the end of the table."

"Very well." Diana said, handing the statue back to the maid. "Please keep it on the table in my room. I will come up soon." The maid took the statue away. Diana walked slowly towards the pile of presents on the table, her thoughts still troubled by Clark.

Clark drove the old truck that had belonged to his family for decades down the main market road of Smallville, Kansas. He had returned from Boston early that morning, after spending a restless and sleepless night there, and had come out to town to pick up a few supplies.

He got out of the vehicle and made his way to the back of the shop, where the boxes were waiting for him. He greeted Sam, the shop owner and signed the receipt, loading the boxes into his car as quickly as possible. It had been uncertain weather all morning and he wanted to get back to the farm.

A short distance away, he saw an old woman bend over her shopping cart and attempt to pick up the heavy bag of flour to put into her car.

"Mrs. Travers." Clark called, walking up to her. "Let me help you with that."

Mrs. Travers turned and beamed up at the young man. "Clark, I didn't know you were back." She exclaimed, patting his shoulder warmly as he came up to her.

"Just got back today." Clark smiled, placing the bag in her car and extracting the other items from the cart as well. "I missed Smallville."

"Hasn't he gotten really big, Sam?" Mrs. Travers called out to the shop owner who was watching them. "Who'd believe this is the same little boy who used to play on the swings outside my house in the evenings!"

"He's still the same boy, Dahlia." Sam called back grinning. "Nothing of the city boy airs about Clark Kent. He knows where his roots are."

"Give me a few more years to outgrow them, then." Clark said, grinning.

"I doubt you will, Clark, some things never change." A voice said from behind him. He turned to see a very pretty red haired girl walking up to him with a smile.

"Lana!" Clark exclaimed with delight, striding forward to hug her. "It's so good to see you. I was coming to see you this afternoon. What are you doing here?"

"Finishing a little Christmas shopping." Lana said, holding up the bag in her hand. "But my truck broke down. I called the mechanic. I was going to look around the shop till he came."

"Well, Sam can see to the truck getting fixed, and I'll give you a lift home." Clark said, looking at Sam, who nodded. "It'll give us a chance to catch up."

"Thanks, Clark." They both bade farewell to Sam and Mrs. Travers, the latter heaving a sentimental sigh as she watched the two childhood friends, now moving rapidly towards adulthood, walk away together.

Lana got into the passenger's seat as Clark started the truck. "No offense, Clark, but why doesn't your dad trade this truck in for something younger? Snails make fun of it as they pass by."

Clark laughed. "It's a matter of sentiment for him." He said as they drove out of the parking lot and onto the road. "He brought it at the beginning when he bought the farm and was trying to make it pay. He's been through a lot with this truck. Besides, we've brought a brand new truck for all the heavy work around the farm."

"Good." Lana settled back in her seat and looked at Clark. "So, how's college life treating you?"

"Same old." Clark said. "Exams that need to be dealt with. People that need to be lived with. With the occasional deeply disturbed individual thrown in."

Lana smiled. "Sounds like a busy life." Lana had been away the last time Clark had some to Smallville, and they had only talked over the phone about his time at college. Clark had not mentioned the exact details, but from what he had told her, she had gained a general idea of the type of deeply disturbed people he talked about meeting. She looked at him seriously now. "Please be careful, Clark. There's only so long luck can help you out."

"I'm always careful." Clark turned to smile at her reassuringly. "Besides, I'm not alone. I've met several good, decent people, each remarkable in his and her own way. We work pretty well together."

"Her?" Lana asked with raised eyebrows.

"A girl named Diana Prince." Clark stopped abruptly, flushing, and stared ahead. "Also Lois Lane." he resumed. "She's a reporter like me. A little too brusque to be considered polite, perhaps, and she can get on the nerves sometimes. But she is genuine person and very passionate about her work. Then there's Cat Grant. Conniving. Obsessed with outer appearances. What people around here would call a 'hussy'. But she is very sweet in her own way."

Lana waited as Clark paused. She had known him long enough to understand his silences. Clark disliked talking about things that were bothering him, perhaps because everyone around him were accustomed to thinking of him as an invincible being incapable of getting concerned over small matters. "And Diana Prince?" Lana prompted.

"I've told you about her before."

"Not in detail." Lana said. "What's she like?"

Clark was silent for a moment. "Intelligent. Kind hearted. Beautiful. Rich. Imagine the most literal examples of each of the four and there you have Diana."

"Sounds like a remarkable girl." Lana looked at him closely. "Are you dating her?"

Clark tried to laugh disbelievingly, and failed, managing only a strange gargle. "Weren't you listening? She's pretty much the perfect package. Guys like Bruce Wayne are asking her out. Why would she look at me?"

"The same reason I looked." Lana said. Clark shot her a glance as she smiled.

"She's on a different level." Clark said as he turned to look at the road again. His voice was curiously flat. "Not something I understood before a few days ago. Now I know better. She deserves someone on her level. Someone who can give her the type of life she's accustomed to. Like Bruce or Arthur or someone."

There was silence for a while as truck continued along its rickety path through the snow laden track.

"So what about us, Clark?" Lana asked in a very quiet voice.

The truck slowed as Clark turned to stare at her fully. He knew this point would come, but still had been trying to avoid it. Him and Lana had been a couple in high school, and for a long time she had been the only girl for him. Then he had gone away...

"Lana" Clark began, then stopped. He was not sure of what to say.

"You left, Clark." Lana's tone was not accusatory. "I stayed. And now I'm wondering if you really have changed."

"I think I have." Clark's voice was low. His eye stared honestly into hers. "I've seen so many things in Metropolis. I've done so many things I never would've believed possible. I really want to say I'm the same, Lana. But..."

His voice trailed away. "I'm not even sure what I was going to say." He muttered.

"It's okay." Lana said, brushing back the spit curl that had fallen over his brow. "I can't say I blame you. People change. That's just life."

"You didn't." Clark said quietly. "You're still as sweet and understanding as ever." Lana smiled.

"Well, I did get an offer for a modelling contract with a company in New York." She said with a low laugh.

"Really?" Clark smiled broadly. "That's fantastic. You'll finally get to travel like you wanted to."

"Yeah, probably until they sling me out on my ear once they find out I'm just a farm girl." She said self deprecatingly.

"They'll be idiots if they do." Clark said firmly. "You've always a great sense of fashion, Lana, and you know how to carry yourself. I've seen girls in Metropolis dressed like they'd been in a prison fight, all ripped and hanging out. You're miles better than any of them."

Lana laughed. "Thanks, Clark." On an impulse, she reached across her seat and hugged him. He hugged her back even as he felt a pang of nostalgia. "I really am sorry I can't give you a straight answer, Lana." he said quietly.

"I understand." She got out the car and walked around to his side of the truck. "Take care of yourself." She added, giving him a kiss on his cheek and trying not to look sad. "I hope you get over whatever's got you so depressed."

"I will." Clark smiled back as he restarted the engine. "I'll see you around." She waved as he drove away.

The rest of the trip passed uneventfully and Clark was soon pulling up in front of his house. The lights on in the drawing room showed where his mother sat watching TV. It was still quite light outside. In front of him stretched out the expanse of field that belonged to his field, the entire area covered with a light sprinkling of snow.

Clark walked slowly towards the gently undulating fields. A flurry of images flashed through his mind. Of glittering chandeliers and sparkling diamonds. Of aristocratic dames and dashing playboys. Of brooding billionaires and raven haired princesses...

But all through the medley of emotions coursing though his heart, he was certain of at least one thing.

It was good to be home again.

* * *

_**Thanks to all the readers who took the time to review. Your encouragement is much appreciated.**_

_**This chapter dedicated to my brother, Dheeraj. Happy birthday, bhaiya, and wish you many happy returns of the day. **_


	20. Troubled Meetings

TROUBLED MEETINGS

A new term had begun, the empty corridors and classrooms again filled with bustle and activity. Students roamed to and fro in search of classrooms, friends and teachers.

In the electrical workshop of the science department sat John Henry Irons and Ted Kord. Diagrams of multiplexers and condensers adorned the walls. Charts about the flow of current and nature of electrons hung from nails. CRO machines lay quietly on the tables. The room held an aura of scientific curiosity as the two friends sat locked in an intense discussion.

"See, that's your problem." John was saying. "Just because it says in The Samarillons that Gandalf was a member of the Istari tribe does not mean he is stronger than Dumbledore."

"What more proof do you need?" Ted said impatiently. "He was one of the earliest forces on the planet. Almost the equivalent of an angel. A celestial being. Dumbledore's just a dude with a magic stick!"

"Proof means something more concrete than deductions based on a character's origins." John said firmly. "Tolkien's world is different from Rowling's, with entirely different species and time periods which cannot in any way be fairly compared. The only basis of contest should be the feats they achieved through the series."

"Gandalf didn't have a big part in the Samarillons." Ted said. "His story really started with The Hobbit, right? But the best stuff came in lord of the rings. He killed a frickin Balrog!"

"And took roughly a million years to do it." John retorted. "Kept having to smite it with his sword. Dumbledore barely took a second to defeat that giant fire serpent thing Voldermort threw at him in the ministry."

"Gandalf broke Saruman's staff with a command." Ted said. "And he became more powerful than Saruman by the end."

"Dumbledore defeated Grindlewald when he had the elder wand." John countered. "That's a wand that can kill an army of magical creatures at once. Dumbledore fought him one on one and won. The most powerful wand in existence!"

"It doesn't say how powerful the wand is compared to Gandalf's staff." Ted said heatedly.

"Quit nitpicking." John said irritably. "Gandalf had to fight with a sword against the army of orcs, and he could still have died. Can you imagine Dumbledore having a hard time against an army that can be killed with swords? All he would have to do is wave the wand a couple of times and the whole battalion is dead. Mortal weapons had no effect on Dumbledore, but Gandalf had to fend them off with a sword."

The door opened in mid argument, and Wally strolled into the room.

"Hey, guys." He called out. "Hard at work, I see. What are you talking about?"

"The effects of the entanglement theory at the microscopic level and it's impact on the macroscopic world when viewed as an adjunct of string theory." Ted said.

"Yeah, really new age stuff. You wouldn't be interested." John added.

"Can't argue with you there." Wally said, leaning against their table. "I just have some time to kill before I head out to the tracks."

"So, you know anything new about Clark?" John asked him.

"He still hasn't come back." Wally said. "And no one knows when he will, either. Bruce just shrugs, and none of the others know. I tried asking Diana, and she nearly bit my head off."

"Why?" John asked with interest.

Wally shook his head slowly. "I'm not sure." He said. "But I think she and Clark aren't on the best of terms right now."

"Really!" John looked surprised. "But I thought they had, like, a thing going on." He looked at Ted for agreement.

"What are you looking at me for? I've never had a thing going on in my own life, what do I know about others?" Ted said.

"Again, this is mostly supposition." Wally said. "But from what Bruce said about Diana's party, and a few things Diana said, he wasn't very friendly during the celebration. And he hasn't called her at anytime during the holidays. And when she called him a couple of times, his mother said he was away."

"Wow." John said, looking at the table with a shake of his head. "That sucks. And I thought they'd be great together."

"I'd heard that musicians got all the chicks." Ted said, his mind still on his own woes. "I tried to get together a rock band, but all I know to play is the saxophone."

"That's not rock, that was used for Jazz and Blues." John commented.

"That's why the band never even got started." Ted said, leaning back against the table. "That's when I turned to a life of science rather than music."

"Maybe you should start one now." Wally said mildly. "You could talk about the depressed lives of engineers with no girlfriends. Like an experimental blues boy band thing. You can call yourselves The Blues Beatles."

"Stupidest name I've ever heard." Ted said.

"And engineers aren't depressed." John said. "Just yesterday I spent three hours on my term paper. And then another two on my roommates. And then I worked with Ted on the CRO machine for the rest of the afternoon. And then I watched Ted drink beer, get drunk and cry about how he doesn't have anyone to love in his life."

"I have a sensitive nature." Ted said.

"If that's a joke, then ha ha." Wally said as he turned to the door with a shake of his head. "If it's true, you guys really need to get out more."

"We're hip and you know it." Ted called out to his retreating back. "All the professors think so."

Wally waved a hand in farewell and left, and the other two faced each other again.

"So, the next topic of discussion." Ted said. "Donald could kick Daffy's ass any day."

John stared at him for a second. "Okay, Wally's right, we do need to go out more." He said as he leaned back with a sigh.

* * *

That afternoon, Wally was walking out of a restaurant in Metropolis plaza. He still had some time to kill before he had to get back to the college. He wished Clark would come back already. The group didn't feel didn't feel the same as before the holidays.

"Watch out!"

Wally turned. A car had barrelled around a corner and was very nearly upon him. There was no time to move. No time to react in any way.

Suddenly a body crashed into his, sending them both sprawling to the pavement out of harm's way. The car stopped and the driver got out, a small, mousey man who looked terrified at what had almost happened.

"I'm so sorry, sir." He squeaked agitatedly as Wally and his rescuer got to his feet. "So very sorry. I've just bought the car. My wife and I are starting a family and we thought we'd get a buy a bigger vehicle. I didn't think it'd accelerate so much. I can't believe this has happened on the first day!"

"It's okay." Wally muttered. A crowd had gathered at the scene, increasing the driver's hysteria to fever pitch. He dusted himself off, the driver still apologising profusely.

Wally turned to his rescuer. "Thanks." He said. "I would've been road kill if you hadn't been there."

"It had nothing to do with fate, Wallace." The man said. He was a middle aged but fit looking man with a square jaw and curiously intent eyes. "I knew you were going to have that accident, and I was here to save you."

Wally stared at him. "What? How do you know my name?"

"I know quite a lot about you." The man indicated the gathering crowd. "And I will tell you all about it once we move to a more private location. We have much to discuss."

Wally stared at the man. He did not know quite what to think of the situation. But the man's eyes were deadly serious. And he did owe him his life. He nodded slowly. "Does a restaurant sound private enough?" He asked.

"Perfect." The man said. After some difficulty they managed to lose the driver, who was offering to take Wally to the hospital. As they walked away, Wally shook hands with his rescuer. "Although you seem to know it already, I'm Wally West. Have we met somewhere before or something?" The man smiled.

"My name is Eobard Thawne. And no, I am not from your past. Just the reverse, in fact."

* * *

"So you're from the future?" Wally asked as he stared at the man who had saved his life.

They sat at the last table in a somewhat seedy diner. They had ordered coffee, and were waiting for their order while the sun sank rapidly from the sky. Wally needed to get back to college soon.

"Yes." The man said matter of factly. He wriggled slightly in his seat. "You people wear tremendously uncomfortable clothes, by the way. You'll be really glad when nanotechnology hits its stride."

Wally leaned back in his chair and continued to stare at the man. "I'm wondering whether to just leave you here, or to call the asylum first."

"I can understand your scepticism." The man said. "Time travel is still four decades in your future. But really, my being a time traveller is not important for why I'm here. I need your help."

"How?" Wally said, looking at him carefully.

"You are to assist me in stopping Sinestro from exploding an EMP bomb over this city." The man looked back at him fixedly.

"Bomb? Look, man, crazy or not, you should really be talking to the police."

"It has to be you."

"Why?"

"Because I have to teach you to believe in yourself." The man said. "It is a promise I will make to you, years from now. I want to help you realise your true potential, Wally."

Wally continued to stare at him in silence, his expression making any comment unnecessary.

"Look, it's not important whether you believe me or not." The man said, leaning forward impatiently. "Let's just assume that you are right, and I am lying. That is not important. A man is going to detonate a bomb here soon, and we need to stop him!"

"Go to the police." Wally repeated. "I don't work with crazy people. I mean, Bruce is slightly off his rocker, but you're on a different planet."

"Ah yes, your friend Bruce, the billionaire loner." The man said. "The one who spends his dotage alone and shut away from everyone else before succumbing to liver cancer from alcohol addiction. Or how about your friend Clark, who will spend his life in a dead end job for a local newspaper, wishing he hadn't wasted his opportunities. Or Diana Prince, stuck in a childless and loveless marriage in her old age. Or John Jones, assassinated in his country for the betrayal of his friends here."

Wally stared at him, an unconscious chill running down his spine. "How do you know what John did? The police kept the whole thing private."

"You told me." The man said. "You told me all this so I could convince you of the truth, Wallace. You have the potential to be greater than all your friends, and leave a lasting impact on the world. But for that to happen, you need to believe in yourself first."

"Well, I certainly don't believe you." Wally said.

Thawne looked at him dispassionately for a second. He reached inside his pocket and took out his mobile. It was unlike any other Wally had ever seen, wafer thin and curiously shaped. "The communication system of the future." The man said.

"So you have a weird looking mobile." Wally said. "That doesn't prove anything."

"Calling it a mobile is an insult to integration mechanics." The man said. He placed the mobile on the plate of glass covering their table.

Immediately the glass came alive with colour. A screen appeared on the table. It contained the complete information contained in the mobile. Wally stared, fascinated. He had seen something like this in movies, but never in real life. The man touched a photo on the glass with his finger and it rippled slightly. Thawne's finger's roved over the picture and it enlarged, minimized and broke apart in front of Wally. Several nearby customers were staring open mouthed at the glass as well.

"Your mobile?" Thawne asked politely. Wally hesitated, but then slowly drew it out and placed it on the glass. And suddenly he could see all the information laid out in front of him. The list of his contacts. The photos of his college and his friends. All the songs and messages. The man shifted a photo from his mobile into the centre of the glass and enlarged it.

Wally stared. The photo was of him walking out of a building. It was dated two days from the present.

"Your helping me is already a foregone conclusion, you see." The man said, handing back his mobile with a smile. "I just have to make you realise that."

"Would you like to try my glasses?" The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek pair of glasses, offering them to Wally. Wally slowly reached out and put them on. For a moment he stopped breathing.

The world around him had come alive with information. He saw every person in the diner, and their complete background information appeared before his eyes. His vision kept changing and adapting to the light, and for a second, he was viewing the entire room through thermal vision.

"A toy of the quantum technology age." The man said. "It's quite ancient in my time, and I only keep it for a certain emotional value. But it's still more powerful than every computer on the planet from your time. It's connected to the internet, and processing a world of information depending on the brain signals it's picking up from your head. It can help you see thousands of feet away, take pictures, videos and just for amusement, it can hack into the pentagon." Wally stared at the man, and immediately his name and date of birth appeared, along with his complete history. His birth date was forty eight years from now.

Wally returned the glasses to the man as Thawne watched him intently. "I showed you all this to gain your trust and to make you understand that I am not lying. But again, it doesn't matter if you believe I'm from your future or not. A bomb is going to explode tomorrow. I am the only one who knows about it. And I need your help averting a major disaster. Considering your track record with your teammates at the college, it really shouldn't be too hard a choice to make, Wallace."

His dispassionate stare was back in place, and now Wally wasn't sure how to respond.

* * *

Kyle Rayner stood waiting at the bus stop, his eyes on his watch. The bus was late, and they already did not have time to lose. Specially since he had to meet up with two people that day.

Finally, the bus arrived. Kyle scanned the crowd of disembarking passengers, and spotted a handsome young man with brown hair cut short in the military fashion smiling at him.

"Hal!" Kyle said happily, striding over to him. "So good to see you, man."

"You too, Kyle." Hal Jordan said, giving him a one armed hug. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Kyle said, walking them over to a shade. "At least, I was until I got the message from the guardians. How's your training going?"

"Fairly well." Hal shrugged. "I can fly jets well enough until I get bored just sitting there. It's not nearly as challenging as I thought. Beautiful scenery, though."

"So does the assignment seem challenging enough?" Kyle asked with a wry smile.

"Yeah, it's interesting." Hal conceded with a grin. "And thanks for helping me with it."

"Hey, duty calls." Kyle shrugged. "I just wish I could do something more to help."

"Don't even think about it." Hal said firmly. "This is going to get dangerous, and you're not nearly experienced enough. You help me with the layout of the city and getting around it, and I'll handle the rough work. That's what the instructions are." He looked at Kyle quizzically. 'So why are we just standing here?"

Kyle looked at his feet sheepishly. "Well, when I got the assignment, I thought I'd ask some of the older members for advice on how to get started."

"Okay, so who'd you ask?" Hal asked, raising a water bottle to his lips.

"Someone who's had experience in this particular business before." Kyle said.

Hal stopped, the bottle inches from his lips. He slowly lowered the bottle.

"Kyle." Hal's voice had become ominous. "Please tell me it's not who I think it is!"

"Jordan!" A voice shouted from behind them.

Kyle looked guiltily at Hal. "He said he wanted to help. I couldn't just say no when he said he was going to come."

Hal turned to see a red haired youth walking towards them with a big grin on his face.

"I was wondering whether I would meet you here!" The newcomer roared, the grin growing wider on his face. "Just like old times, huh?"

Hal let out a sigh as he nodded to the newcomer. "How are you, Gardner?"

* * *

_**Sorry about the delay. Life got in the way, and the original novel I'm working on just started pouring out. But now that it's finished, hopefully this story will be more regularly updated. **_


	21. The Brotherhood

THE BROTHERHOOD

Officer Dan Turpin placed his badge and gun on his desk and let out a small grunt as he took his seat behind it at the Metropolis Police Station. In front of him stood five youths who had been involved in a recent bombing attempt on Oan Towers.

He recognised two of them.

Wally West and Kyle Rayner stood in front of Turpin's desk without looking at each other. They had exchanged bewildered expressions upon seeing each other at the police station, but personal explanations would have to wait until the police was through with them.

Turpin stared at Wally and Kyle. "Why are you kids always mixed up in this kind of business? If it isn't murder frame ups, its terrorists, and if it's not terrorists it's bomb threats. Don't you ever have any studying to do at that college of yours?"

"He was working with me." The slightly older man with the brown, crew cut hair spoke up, indicating Kyle. "I'm with the guardians."

Turpin nodded, unimpressed. "They told me about you. That doesn't explain why you got civilians involved."

"We didn't know about them." Hal indicated Wally and the man next to him.

"I'm with Keystone PD." The man spoke up. "The pulse was in our custody when it was stolen. They sent me to investigate. Wally was helping me."

"And you, er... Carl, is it?" Turpin asked Kyle with a frown. "Why were you there? Don't you know civilians aren't allowed within international jurisdiction matters?"

"I'm not a civilian." Kyle said, letting out an inward sigh. He reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a green, curiously shaped ring, and slipped it on his middle finger. "My name is Kyle Rayner, and I am the green lantern of sector 4479."

Wally's head whipped towards Kyle and he stared at him in amazement. Kyle continued to look at the officer.

Turpin sighed, leaning back in his chair and massaging his temple. "Suppose you five tell me everything from the beginning, instead of piling on the surprises? Think you lot can manage that for once?"

* * *

Outside Oan towers: Two hours earlier

Wally West got out of the cab and paid the driver. He turned to stare at the imposing complex stretching out in front of him beyond the main gates. Somewhere inside the complex, a picture of him had been caught on camera and shown to him by Eobard Thawne. That picture had been dated two days into the future. He was half an hour away from the exact time shown on the picture.

Wally walked slowly towards the gate, but then hesitated. The booth next to the stop outside the main gate was empty. There should have been a guard there. And yet...

Wally could not even believe what he was contemplating doing. But the man had shown him that it was already predetermined that he would be inside the building at the appointed time. And then there was the bomb, which Thawne had said only he could save the city from. He was torn over what he should do. A part of him still thought it was all unbelievable. That was why he was not going to the police just yet. He wanted to make sure...

He hesitated for another moment, but then walked slowly towards the gate.

* * *

Wally stood in front of the lab building and stared up at the security camera. He was fairly sure this was the point at which the photo had been taken. He checked his watch. There was still time. Twenty minutes before... something was supposed to happen. It was an unsettling thought that he had no idea what that was supposed to be. Maybe he was really just wasting his time. And he was technically breaking into private grounds. He still had time to get out before-

"Hey!" An angry suddenly voice shouted. Wally turned. A guard was glaring at him from a hundred yards away. "What are you doing here?"

Wally hesitated. "I was told to be here." He began, then realised how ridiculous the full explanation would sound. He was uncertain as to how to proceed. The guard was talking rapidly into his walkie talkie.

"Wally!" A voice appeared, and Wally whirled to see Eobard Thawne beckoning to him from atop a staircase.

Wally hesitated for one more second, staring at the guard. He was in a dangerously vulnerable position, and Thawne was apparently the only person there at the moment who seemed to know exactly what was going on. He ran up the staircase after Thawne's diminishing figure, and entered the building.

Thawne had disappeared. Wally stared around the darkened room he was in. The shouting of guards outside came to his ears. He made his way out of the room through the sole doorway, and stepped into fluorescent light.

A scene of destruction greeted him. He was in some sort of a laboratory. Machines lay broken and scattered on the ground. There was smoke rising from a strangely shaped instrument. Two scientists were lying unconscious on the ground. Three guards stood staring at them. Their walkie talkies squawked, and they heard the message. They all turned simultaneously to look up at Wally, and he froze under their gaze.

"Stay where you are." A guard shouted as the three came towards him up the stairs. "This is a crime scene. You are staying with us until the police arrives."

Wally's mind was in a free fall. He could not even begin to understand what was going on. All he knew was that somehow he was being seen as a criminal, and the police was involved. His hands rose slowly in the air as the guards continued to shout, and a prickle of panic appeared in his mind.

That was when he saw Thawne disappearing into the shadows at the opposite end of the walkway.

Wally was suddenly filled with anger, and a sudden fit of desperation. He did not know what was going on, but Thawne did. Whatever kind of trouble he was in, he knew that Thawne behind the whole thing.

It was then that Wally decided on a course of action that, in retrospect, even he could not decide whether was brave or stupid. Perhaps the truth was it was less a decision and more an instinctive response to the situation.

He sprinted up the walkway, past the surprised guards. They shouted and grabbed at him, but he was too fast. He was on the other side of the walkway before they had drawn their guns. The first shot rang out as he exited the hall, burying into the wall inches away from where he had been a second ago.

Wally raced out of the hallway and made his way rapidly down the stairs. He could see Thawne crouching behind a tower, watching the laboratory. Upon seeing Wally he turned and tore off in the opposite direction. Wally jumped down the last few steps, and the chase was on.

Thawne was in excellent shape, but Wally was filled with a steely anger that made him oblivious to any fatigue. He gained steadily on the figure ahead of him as they made their way deeper into the complex, the sound of guards shouting all around them

Finally Thawne slowed down. They were under a bridge connecting two buildings, and were, for the moment, hidden from view. Wally increased his speed, seconds away from Thawne. But then he stopped abruptly. Thawne had reached into his jacket, and the steely glitter of a berretta handgun suddenly shone in his hand.

Thawne was panting, and so was Wally as the two faced each other. The guards were coming closer.

"Walk away, Wallace." Thawne said coolly. "This will not end well for you if you try to force my hand."

Wally stared at him, still panting hard. "Why?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Thawne smirked.

Suddenly, the sound of a bike roared behind them. Thawne frowned in puzzlement. He turned to locate the source, and a biker suddenly burst into view.

Thawne's gun was raised and three shots rang out, but the bike was far too fast. He raised straight towards Thawne, and then at the last second turned, hitting Thawne with his shoulder at full speed. The gun flew from the impact and landed several feet away with a clatter.

Thawne took one look at the biker, and then ran. He was running at top speed now, and going full pelt.

The bike roared again, and suddenly it was right beside him. A sharp, 180 degree turn, and Thawne ran straight into the bike, the impact sending him tumbling hard to the ground. He stayed on the ground staring up at the biker as guards ran towards them, attracted by the noise. Wally jogged up slowly as well.

The biker pointed towards Thawne, and the guards nodded and seized him. One looked questioningly at Wally, but the biker shook his head. Thawne was led away, dealing one last look of hatred at the biker.

Wally stared at Thawne's retreating back, and then at the biker, a blond haired man with clear blue eyes.

"Tight spot there, Wally." The man said lightly.

Wally stared at him. "What the hell is going on in this place?"

The biker grinned. "Give me a minute to speak to the guards, and then I'll be happy to answer all of your questions. And by the way," He extended his hand. "My name is Barry Allen."

* * *

"He was lying to me the whole time?" Wally said.

"Shocking though it might seem, he's not actually a time traveller." Barry said dryly. "He was a supplier to Sinestro, a man who runs a rival company to Oa, and when the hit was decided they needed a patsy to pin it on. The purpose of telling you the story was to get you here, and then frame you."

"But he told me all these weird things." Wally rapidly narrated the circumstances of his first meeting with Thawne.

"The mobile he gave you showed information on a glass screen, right?" Barry said. "He was using sixth sense technology. They were developed a few years ago. The screen you saw the information on was a projection he was controlling. You might have seen the new samsung phones that use the technique of touching phones to share files. That's what he was doing when he pulled out the information from your mobile. And the glasses he showed you? They're pretty common in certain circles, too. He stole then from my boss, actually. You can almost do all those things through a smartphone nowadays anyway. It was simply a question of adapting the technology to lenses."

"But he showed me the picture." Wally persisted. "It had me going towards the building, and it was dated today."

"Ever heard of photoshop?" Barry asked. "They could have grafted your face onto a giraffe. Melding it to the face of an employee at Oa was nothing. Neither was changing the date on the photo."

Wally stared at him, his colossal stupidity becoming painfully clear to him at that moment.

"Why did he choose me for all of this?" He asked finally.

"Because your little group has had a remarkably large hand in recent criminal arrests in this city." Barry said. "It makes your mysterious involvement more credible than any other citizen."

"But why was I chosen from the group?" Wally asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Because they knew I'd be the one they could fool most easily?"

"I can think of a better reason." Barry said slowly. "Thawne has a special vendetta against me. He wanted to get me here so his friends could finish me off inside the complex. He knew getting you involved would force me to come here personally."

"Why?" Wally asked with a frown.

Barry stared into the distance for a moment. "Because," He said at last in a slightly awkward tone. "I'm dating your sister, and she'd be really mad if I let anything happen to you."

"You're dating Iris?" Wally stared at him in surprise. "She never said a word to me!"

"Yeah, we're being low key about it for now." Barry said with an apologetic smile. "We both need to concentrate on our jobs for now. But it has been going on for a few months."

Wally stared at him, his brain finally starting to take it all in. "Well, thanks for saving my life, I guess."

"Don't mention it." Barry smiled. "And it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Wallace. Iris told me a lot about you and your little group, and all the times you've helped the police. I used to run in high school too, but from what I've heard, you might be faster."

"Thanks." Wally grinned. "You seem to know a thing or two about speed. The things you did with that bike were amazing."

"It took a while to learn." Barry said with a smile. "There seem to be a few things you and I share. Speed is in our blood. So is justice. So how about we work with the police when it gets here to get Thawne behind bars? They'll want a word with you as well as me."

* * *

"Who would have thought it would come to this?" Sinestro said softly.

Hal, Kyle and Gardner stared back at him from across the table. They sat in a conference room inside Oa complex. The building in which the meeting was taking place was completely deserted.

"You have a strange way of showing remorse." Hal said.

"Remorse? My dear boy, why would I show remorse? I warned Ganthet years ago what my dismissal would mean. This situation is several years in the making. I merely regret that the guardians did not heed my warning."

"I'm glad they didn't." Kyle broke in coldly. "If it got you out of the corps instead of weakening it from the inside, I think they made the right call."

"Careful, child." Sinestro's cold green eyes swivelled over to him. "I was wearing the ring while you were still in diapers. I understand the corps and the guardians much better than you ever will." Hal gave Kyle a warning glance. He was here only to observe, not to interfere with the proceedings.

"Exactly what is this pulse supposed to do?" Hal said in a neutral voice.

Sinestro picked up the silver briefcase sitting on the ground next to him and placed it on the table. Slowly, he opened the briefcase. A detonator with a pulsing red button lay in the centre. To the left lay a gleaming yellow gun, which Sinestro extracted and placed in front of him.

"Just an extra precaution." He smiled at Hal. "Although we know how foolish a personal attack on me would be inside this complex. Now, the pulse is the result of a brain wave on the part of a silicon valley scientist named Rahul Maurya. He passed away soon after, unfortunately, but by a happy coincidence the pulse fell into my hands."

"We'd heard about Maurya's design." Hal said coolly. "And Oan scientists have already built a shield against it."

"Yes, I am well aware of Tomar Re's claims." Sinestro smiled. "But you and I both know it is impossible to build a shield against my pulse. Once I press the button, the power battery that the guardians have spent all their resources making will be destroyed. I'm sure your scientists have been working round the clock trying to locate the bomb, but I can assure you they won't find it."

There was a long pause. "Your demands?" Hal's voice had changed, and Sinestro's smile widened.

"A merging between Oa and my company, with myself as majority stakeholder."

"That's a pretty big demand." Hal murmured.

"A logical one." Sinestro said. "At one press of the button, I can annihilate the power source, and without a central power battery, Oa's position on the global energy market crashes. It was foolish of the corps to stake all their money on this new energy source. The only way out is to join me."

"Exactly how did you manage to know where to place the battery?" Hal asked.

For the first time, Guy Gardener stirred in his seat next to Hal. He stood up and went to stand next to Sinestro. "I decided to look for new career opportunities, Jordan." Kyle was staring at Guy, open mouthed. Sinestro was smirking at Hal.

"Guy Gardener is a revolutionary, just like myself." He said. "And when I contacted him, he saw at once how much more effective my methods are than the guardians."

Hal was staring at Guy. "I can't say I'm surprised. The guardians have made mistakes in the past." He paused, with a hard look at Gardener. "Making you a lantern was one of the biggest."

"Guy!" Kyle burst out, unable to contain himself. "What the hell are you doing? You're a green lantern. How could you do this to the corps?"

"Sorry, kid. But Sinestro's more my kind of a boss than the guardians." Gardner said. He turned to look at Hal. "And I was a better lantern than you ever were, army boy."

"Is that why they kicked you out?"

"What?" Kyle said, turning to stare at Hal.

"I'm sorry you didn't know, Kyle." Hal said coldly. "He's not a lantern anymore. He lost his badge a month ago."

Gardener's eyes had narrowed as he stared at Jordan, a muscle working in his jaw. "What happened to qward wasn't my fault."

"Tell that to the victims of the controllers." Hal said evenly.

Gardener took a step forward, his hands curling into fists. Kyle had the sudden urge to shout a warning to Hal.

"You talk as if I'm the only lantern who ever made a mistake." Gardener hissed.

"You're the one who makes multiple mistakes." Jordan said coolly.

Gardener let out a low laugh. "Is that right, _parallax_?"

The blood drained from Hal's face, as he rose and took a step in Gardener's direction as well.

"Yes it is, you psychotic clown. I made a mistake in the past, but I've learnt from it-"

"Learnt how to kill people, you mean? Learnt how to screw the guardians out of their own money."

"I didn't steal that money." Hal was shouting now. "Don't you dare try to make me out to be a thief, Gardener."

"What else you wanna call it, _Mr. Lantern_." Gardener roared as well. "It's because of you that the battery was broken in the first place, you who tried to break into the guardians accounts, you who made Wog and the others lose their life savings. And then you tell me I'm the one who should be ashamed? At least I never tried to-"

"Enough." Sinestro's cold voice broke the argument before it could escalate into a fistfight. "Stubborn, hot headed children. That is what you all are. And you call yourselves lanterns. You can kill each other after this meeting is over. But first, Hal Jordan, I need an answer."

Hal was breathing heavily as he sat down, and it took several seconds for his blood pressure to return to normal. "I trust Tomar Re." Hal said quietly at last. "He said he'd fixed the shield, and I have no reason to doubt him. Nor do the guardians."

"Are you sure, lantern?" Sinestro voice had turned to a whisper. "Would you trust him with the fate of Oa? Perhaps we should put your faith to the test?"

"We should." Hal spoke quietly, yet something in his voice sent warning bells ringing in Sinestro's mind. Before he could react, Hal had already reached across the table and pressed the detonation button.

The other three sprang to their feet as well. Sinestro's eyes bulged in disbelief as he stared at Hal. Kyle was staring at him as well. But Hal's eyes were locked on the window. He took out his mobile and dialled a number, his gaze dispassionate. Someone at the other end picked up, and a brief message was relayed.

Hal sat back slowly in his chair, motioning to Kyle to sit as well. He was staring back at Sinestro now. "That was the head of security at Oa." He said quietly. "He just told me that the bomb went off. And it was ineffective on the battery."

A ringing silence followed the announcement. Sinestro was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring. "You planned this." He spoke slowly. "You planned all of this."

"No, we just modified your plan a little." Hal said. "Your bomb would certainly have been a threat. For the outside world. We had to make sure it went off in controlled surroundings."

"Controlled surroundings!" Sinestro repeated in disbelief. "It could have ruined the guardians. It could have destroyed all their work."

"Tomar Re told us his shield would hold."

"And you gambled everything on his word?" Sinestro still looked disbelieving. "You staked the future of the corps on the word of one green lantern?"

"That is what we do." Hal's voice had changed. It was quieter now, and compelling. "We put everything on the line every day, and all we have to depend on is our trust in our brothers. That's what you never understood about the lanterns. And that's why you couldn't stick to our code."

The look on Sinestro's face was twisted and ugly. In a second, he had grabbed the gun off the desk and was levelling it at Hal. There was no time to even think about dodging.

And then a fist smashed into his face from the left, and he was sent sprawling to the ground. He looked up to see Gardner picking up the gun from the ground.

"_What are you doing_?" Sinestro bellowed.

"My little bit in this plan." Gardner remarked, emptying the chambers of the gun. "It's not the action I'm used to, but what you gonna do."

"You are with them!"

"Oh, yeah." Guy nodded matter of factly. The surprise on Sinestro's face was replaced by anger.

"You fool." He said through gritted teeth. "I could have made us both rich beyond our wildest dreams."

"Not if it meant an end to the corps. Sure, we've had some bad patches, but that's another thing you never understood about this job." Gardner stared down at him, and for once there was no mocking glint in his eyes. "Once a green lantern, _always_ a green lantern."

Slowly, Sinestro got to his feet. Guy had walked over to Hal and Kyle, and the three stood staring at him in silence, the green rings glinting identically on their fingers.

"You're free to leave whenever you want to." Hal said quietly. "No one else need know about this. Only because you were once one of us, and the damage was contained. But if you ever try to threaten us again..." He let the words hang in the air for a moment. "Just remember. You attack one of us, you attack us all."

Sinestro stood staring at them, breathing heavily. Then he turned and strode out of the room without a word. For several moments no one else in the room moved.

"Come on." Hal said at last, motioning towards the door. "We're done here."

"Sorry about the scare, kid." Guy said to Kyle. "The guardians sent me to Sinestro to keep an eye on him. When you called me, I saw it as a nice opportunity to be there when things came to a head."

"A neat end, all things considered." Hal mused aloud. "I was worried when he took out the gun, but everything else played out fairly to plan."

"So that argument between you two was part of the plan?" Kyle asked slowly.

Hal and Guy glanced at each other. "Err... no, that was just in the heat of the moment." Hal admitted.

"And that little talk isn't over yet, Jordan." Guy said. "We'll be picking up where we left off someday soon."

"Looking forward to it." Hal said with a grin.

"So that's it?" Kyle asked as they moved towards the exit of the building. "The big mission is over? We can call up the guardians? I was expecting" But Hal had come to an abrupt stop as he opened the door.

Outside, a police car was parked next to a laboratory building. A handcuffed man that Hal recognised as Eobard Thawne was being forced into the car.

"Looks like it isn't over yet." He muttered with a slight frown. Officer Turpin spotted the three and started making his way towards them.

* * *

_**Thanks to all the readers who've been kind enough to review. Nice to know the story was being read and appreciated even while on hiatus.**_

_**I've recently published a novel on Amazon, and I'm looking for some honest reviews. I would be happy to send a free copy of the novel via email in return for leaving a review on Amazon. Readers who are interested can leave me a message in the reviews section of this website, or at neerajchand2992atgmaildotcom . Below is the synopsis of the novel:**_

_**Neel Dervin And The Dark Angel-**_

_**He was a teenage super soldier.  
There were certain questions that fourteen year old Neel Dervin had never thought to ask himself.  
Like how much pain he could endure before passing out. Or how many times he could be shot and still keep running. Or how often he could lie to his friends and family without feeling remorse.  
**_**_But then that one fateful day changed his life forever, and set him on a path towards immeasurable power as well as inconceivable terror.  
_**_**Now the only people who can help him deal with the situation are complete strangers who are using him for their own ends. Trapped in circumstances beyond his control with abilities he barely understands, he must navigate a treacherous path mired in betrayals and difficult choices to take back control of his life.**_


	22. Back to the Fold

**Back To The Fold**

"It's called Warworld." Bruce said. "An illegal fight club. People step into the ring. They fight, the spectators bet, and the winner walks away with a certain percent of the spoils."

"And the rest?" Arthur asked.

"Goes to Mongul." Bruce said. "He started the club. He is trouble." He stared at John, Kyle, Wally, Diana and Arthur as they sat around the cafeteria table, and decided not to trouble them with the grisly details that he had found out about the owner of Warworld.

"What does Dak Syde want with Warworld?" Wally asked.

"Think of it as a training camp." Bruce said. "Virtually every local tough has fought there at some point. The owner gets an excellent idea of how good a fighter a man is, how brutal, and how willing he is to fight dirty to win. Potential candidates are tracked down and offered further training and employment, police protection etc. It's an efficiently brutal head hunting process."

Kyle fidgeted in his seat. "What do you want us to do about it?"

"We're going to shut it down, and find out any connections to Dak Syde in the place." Bruce said. "I have a plan to get us inside the place and out."

A silence met the statement. Kyle and Wally glanced at each other. Diana and John were staring fixedly ahead. There was a slight frown on Arthur's face.

"Or maybe we let the police handle this?" Wally suggested at last. "Warworld sounds like a dangerous place. Dan Turpin and his men should have an easier time there than us."

"Mongul's paid off the police."Bruce said flatly. "No cops will be caught dead near that place." He found himself missing Clark. Trying to cajole people into working with him was not a comfortable experience, and he was aware his diplomatic skills left much to be desired.

"But you're comfortable sending all of us to a place like that?" Arthur spoke now, his frown deepening. "A place the police won't touch?"

"I'll do the dangerous work." Bruce said. "But we'll need decoys and lookouts. And as for the danger, there will be no more of it than there was when we went after Protex's gang, or Luthor."

"Look man, we did those things because they were unavoidable." Wally said. "And you have to admit we had a lot of help from luck to survive them. This mission just doesn't seem all that necessary."

Bruce had to literally bite his tongue to keep back a sharp retort. "It is if you want to stop Dak Syde." He said as evenly as possible. "I thought that was the goal."

"It is, Bruce." John spoke up. "But what you are suggesting is far removed from the help we have attempted to provide in times of need in the past, and crosses into vigilantism. It is a dangerous territory to tread, my friend."

"We can't expect to solve this matter without getting our hands dirty." Bruce said through gritted teeth. "You all know why Dak Syde is dangerous, and Mongul is almost as bad. This mission is necessary, and I repeat, I'll handle any real danger during the mission."

"We all know that's bull." Arthur said flatly. "If the plan gets screwed even slightly, everything falls apart. And once that happens we all have to face the heat."

"We won't if everybody follows their orders." Bruce growled.

"Yeah, because we're all so great at doing that." Arthur rose from his seat. "Sorry, Bruce. I think we should sit this one out." He turned and began to walk away from the table.

"Get back here, Arthur." Bruce called out sharply. "I didn't say you could leave yet."

Arthur turned around slowly. "What was that?" he walked up to Bruce until their faces were inches apart. "You didn't say I could leave? You're going to give me permission? Who the hell do you think you are?" John rose and stepped in quickly to hold Arthur back. Bruce was watching him through narrowed eyes.

"We need to work on this as a team. Every team needs a leader. I'm the most qualified." He said.

"To be a dictator maybe. But I'm not going into a den of thieves because you feel like playing the hero."

"So you're scared." Bruce stated flatly.

John grabbed Arthur's shoulders to stop him reaching for Bruce. "Because it's my decision, you jumped up little egomaniac. We're not your little toy soldiers that you can order around and tell when to charge."

"Calm down, man." Kyle said, laying a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "That's not what Bruce meant. We understand if you don't want to go, and that's totally your decision. Right, Bruce?"

Bruce nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Arthur shook off John and Kyle and strode off.

"What about you two?" Bruce asked, looking at Wally and Kyle. They both looked uncomfortable.

"I'm really sorry, man." Wally said slowly. "But I think Arthur's right. We're in over our heads. And I just don't think getting some more information about Dak Syde is worth all this risk." Kyle nodded quietly as well. The two stood up slowly, not looking at Bruce, and walked away as well.

Bruce was breathing hard as he looked at Diana. "Diana?"

Diana stared up at him and met his gaze, looking troubled. "Please let the police handle this, Bruce." She said in a low voice. "We have done enough. We need to let them do their duty, and we need to get on with ours." She rose and walked away as well.

And then there was only John left. The two stared at each other for a moment, and Bruce did not have to ask anything. John's expression was clear enough.

"Bruce-" John began in a low voice.

Bruce turned and strode silently out of the hall.

* * *

"So there aren't any other sources?" Bruce asked, a frown on his face.

"None that you'll be interested in." Eel O'Brian shrugged, staring around the campus with practiced indifference. He had just finished telling Bruce about the paucity of personal information about Mongul, and where he might keep any important documents.

"So is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Not me." Eel gestured behind Bruce, and he turned to see Selina Kyle walking towards them.

She strolled over to them, something about her air of indifference similar to Eel's. "Hey, boys." She called out. "This is a strange little tea party."

"You have information about Mongul?" Bruce asked.

Selina shrugged. "I went to warworld once with a friend of mine. Nasty sort of a place, even by my standards."

"What can you tell me about the location?" Bruce asked.

"It's a bad place to be in, even by Suicide slum's standards." Selina said. "It used to a huge gym that was taken over by the mob and then dumped, on account of it basically being made of cardboard and cello tape. It's close to collapsing in on itself anyday now, which means Mongul doesn't have to worry about anyone trying to take it from him. It's got a bunch of tenements at the back where he lives, along with some of his gang, although he's pretty protective of his house. Most of the tenement's deserted."

Bruce nodded, thinking hard. "The documents?"

"No idea." Selina shrugged again. "Might be anywhere, might not even exist. Organisational ability isn't really a valuable job skill in Suicide slum."

Bruce stood for a moment deep in thought, then came to with an abrupt start. "Tonight would be the best time to get inside. I'll need to make some arrangements first." He turned away and began to walk back to his hostel.

"It's a death trap." Selina called out suddenly. Bruce stopped. "Look, I'm not going to tell you what to do, but Mongul is not the kind of guy you mess with. Even Gotham mob bosses are scared of him. He's way too dangerous for you to take on alone."

"Selina," Bruce half turned to glance back at her. "_I'm_ dangerous."

* * *

The man sitting at the table looked oddly like an office clerk as he sat bent over the dusty table, a log book in front of him. Until you got close and saw the tattoos and scars covering his body.

"Name?" He said without looking up as Bruce walked up to him.

"Malone." Bruce said. The man finally looked up and stared at him appraisingly.

"This ain't a fashion show, kid." He said, looking down again. "Beat it."

"I'm here to fight."

"So are these guys." The man indicated the line forming behind Bruce. "And they actually know how to put on a show. They were breaking teeth while you were in diapers. So beat it. This isn't a place for you."

"Why don't you let me decide that." Bruce said, taking out a roll of bills. "I'll be betting on myself as well."

The man stared at Bruce, then took the roll of bills and nodded. "Your life, kid."

"So when does the fight start?" Bruce asked.

The man grinned. "Well, you were kind enough to open the pool. So no time like the present."

Bruce was grabbed from behind and thrown into a wall away from the man at the table. The milling crowd open a path for him as the spectators fanned out in a circle, shouting and clapping. The others were clamouring to get their money down on the fight.

Bruce's attacker was on him again, a big heavy set man who stank of beer, raining down blows unceasingly. There was no science or method to the fight.

And then suddenly, the attacker's neck was caught in a scissor hold. Three punches, quick and hard and aimed for the eyes and nose, sent him staggering back. Bruce got to his feet and faced the man, his eyes sizing up his opponents strength and speed as he moved to shift his weight from one leg to the other.

The man rushed towards Bruce, one heavy arm raised. Bruce ducked, and the next moment his knee had risen to smash the man in his chest. Without a second's pause, his other leg slammed into his neck, leaving him gasping. Bruce's elbow shot out, and the man lay panting on the floor.

Bruce surveyed the silent room as he slowly took his jacket off. "Next."

A slow clap came from the back of the room. The crowd turned to locate the source, and Bruce saw a man standing in front of a throne like chair at the end of the hall. Almost seven feet tall. Built like a linebacker. Heavy brow jutting out over merciless eyes, Bruce knew he was looking at Mongul.

"Impressive." Mongul's deep voice rumbled. "A good start for what promises to be a night of high interest. Gentlemen, place your bets. It is time to separate the men from the boys!"

* * *

The battles raged on within warworld. Men of varying shapes and sizes hurled themselves at each other to the raucous cheers of the onlookers. Mongul sat impassive on his throne like chair, his eyes intently studying each contender. The aura of violence prevalent was in many ways reminiscent of Bludhaven.

Bruce moved discreetly through the shouting crowd. He had won every match so far, and was due to fight whoever won the present round. In the meantime, he had had ample time to study the surroundings and make his preparations. Now had come the time to make his move. He reached into his jacket pocket, his face impassive as he pressed a button.

A loud shrieking noise filled the room, jerking the shouting men out of their rounds. Once it became clear it was not a police siren, the men stared at each other in confusion. The shouting and yelling increased as the circle around the two contenders began to break up and disperse.

And then an explosion sounded from the back of the room. Everyone turned, and they saw a section of the roof fall in. That was all it took to confirm the suspicion. The badly constructed structure was finally collapsing. That was an uproar as men pushed and pulled their way to the exit, unheeding of those who had fallen and were being trampled. The mob burst out into the open, and turned to stare at the building. It was not collapsing any longer, and no more explosions sounded. The door of the gym swung shut. The men looked at each other in confusion. While nothing further happened, they all stood rooted still, uncertainly waiting for someone other than themselves to be the first one to enter the building. The seconds ticked past and still no one moved.

Inside the gym, Bruce turned away from the door and stared at Mongul, who had not run, but had risen from his chair and stood watching him.

"Hologram and sound effects." Bruce called out. "That's the most unfortunate characteristic of these kind of men." he continued as he neared Mongul. "Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot." He came to stand directly in front of the big man. "The gym seems a lot smaller without your little army around you, doesn't it?"

"Hardly." Mongul rumbled, his eyes studying Bruce curiously as he crossed his hands behind his back. "Is there a reason you had to resort to all these theatrics?"

"I want some information about Dak Syde. Evidence against him."

Mongul put his head to one side, seeming amused. "At least you have taken the trouble to ask nicely."

"Something told me that wouldn't work in a place like this." Bruce glanced around the gym.

"And why should I tell you anything?"

"I have ways of making people talk." Bruce stated calmly. "But before we have to resort to that, I could tell you I am working to bring him down, and any information you give will help speed up the process."

Mongul laughed then, a deep, rumbling laugh. "A mutually beneficial arrangement, I see. You invade my domain, and then expect to do business with me."

"Not business, no." Bruce said softly. "An interrogation. How smoothly it goes, depends on you."

Mongul cocked his head to one side again. "I have killed men for lesser insolence than yours." He murmured. "Something that I intend to do to you, too. But your attitude appeals to me, little man. So much so that I will do you the courtesy of telling you, you are deluded about your grasp on this situation. I am still in charge here. That I have allowed you to live thus far is a demonstration of my interest, not your ability." Bruce did not challenge the statement. He could feel the shift in the atmosphere of the room. The time for talk would soon be past.

"As for Dak Syde," Mongul continued. "In all honesty, I do not know anything."

"I find that hard to believe. You supply thugs to him. You control parts of suicide slum. And you have considerable influence in the underworld."

"And all of that means nothing to Dak Syde." Mongul said, a thoughtful frown now appearing on his face. "Dak Syde is far removed from the typical Metropolis mobster, in the sense that he does not consider himself one of us. It is no secret that he wants to control Metropolis, but even aside from the considerable personal gain such an undertaking would involve, deep down, I believe he truly considers it his birthright to rule. In that sense, he sees himself as royalty. Better not just than us criminals, but better than the other citizens as well."

"And so he will make use of my services, but he will not associate himself with me beyond that. All the communications are through the usual channels, which would hardly be worth looking into for evidence. Even if I wanted to provide you information about him, I simply do not have any to give."

Bruce stared at him, his mind racing. He realised Mongul was telling the truth. He had miscalculated in believing he would find information here. The mission had been in vain, and it seemed the others had been right not to come.

"Then it seems I will have to be disappointed in my plans." Bruce said calmly.

"Not a good plan." Mongul remarked, taking a slow step forward. "Tell me, as a point of idle curiosity, did it ever occur to you to make some plan other than barging into the very epicentre of my kingdom, demanding answers?"

"I prefer the direct approach." Bruce remarked.

"Even if doing so gets you killed?" Mongul's voice was very soft.

The two stared at each other for a moment, and Bruce hardly dared to breathe. Any second now...

And then Mongul was bounding towards him with shocking speed. Bruce barely had time to brace himself before the other man was on him. Mongul picked him up and threw him into the wall, Bruce's punches flying futilely past his head. He was incredibly strong. He grabbed Bruce around his neck and began to squeeze, the small eyes narrowed with malice.

Three elbow jabs to Mongul's arm, and his grasp released. Bruce pushed hard with both his legs, and sent his opponent lumbering back. Without pausing for a second, he jumped to his feet and ran forward to continue his assault in a flurry of punches.

A part of Bruce was surprised by his own savagery as his leg smashed into Mongul's kneecap. He had never fought like this before, always preferring to incapacitate his victims instead. But the atmosphere of Warworld had done something to him. The air of mindless violence had had a deeper effect on his mind than he was prepared to admit, and unleashed some primal, instinctual aggression within.

And still it wasn't enough. Mongul was still on his feet, still sending brutal punches to Bruce's head that sent him reeling back every time. Not for nothing was he the head of warworld.

The fight was drawing out for too long. Bruce felt himself tiring while Mongul showed no sign of slowing down. But Mongul wasn't interested in a victory so much as escape.

Bruce was sent crashing violently into the wall, and once again got to his feet, his reflexes a little slower now. Mongul had turned and was making his way to the exit of the gym. Bruce knew he was heading towards the back of suicide slum where he lived within the tenement, possibly to get back up. He followed as quickly as he could.

He came out of the gym exit to find Mongul standing rooted in the middle of the lot in front of the tenement. Bruce followed the direction of his gaze.

Arthur, Diana , John, Wally and Kyle stood at the end of the lot. In Arthur's hand was a gun that belonged to his father, the same gun they had used to scare away Mongul's men, the ones they had found in the tenement. Bruce stared at them, and then stared back at Mongul as he walked slowly up to him.

Mongul's eyes were narrowed as he sized up the situation. Finally, a mean little smile played across his lips as he stared at Bruce.

"Amusing to think you sought to defeat me on your own." He rumbled. "With the added advantage of your henchmen, you might just be able to give me a proper match."

"I don't need any help to beat you." Bruce replied. He turned to face the others. "Nobody interferes-" He began to say, and just then Mongul's elbow smashed into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Bruce got to his feet quickly, cursing his competitive nature. Mongul was running at full speed, and by the time Bruce was on his feet, he had disappeared inside the tenement house.

Suddenly the house was full of noise, as the seven ran towards the doorway. From inside came the sound of heavy bodies falling, furniture upturning, and Mongul yelling.

And then suddenly a deeper crash was heard, more absolute than the others. The doors were blasted open, and Mongul's heavy body was sent staggering out before collapsing onto the ground, where he lay breathing feebly. The dust flying from inside settled, and Clark Kent stepped out of the house and into the open.

"Clark!" Wally and Kyle roared in delight as they ran over to him. Arthur and John were grinning broadly as they walked over to him, and even Bruce could not stop a grin from forming on his face. Clark grinned back just as broadly as they reached him, and he hugged Wally and Kyle and Arthur and John before clapping Bruce on his back. "Looks like I got here right at the end."

"Close to the end." John smiled. "I take it my message reached you, then?"

"Just in time for me to head to college and have Eel tell me you're all here." Clark said. "I wasn't sure if you guys had a plan in place for this little excursion, and I didn't want to do anything to upset it. So I decided to stay hidden until I was needed." He grinned at Bruce. "Didn't know you'd send this guy straight into my arms."

"I could have taken him." Bruce remarked.

"I know, but I needed some practice too." Clark grinned again.

And then they all realised Diana was still standing at the back of the lot, watching them. The laughter died away as they all looked at the Clark and Diana uncertainly. Clark was staring at her, who stared back, her eyes very bright. No one else dared make a move.

"Diana..." Clark called out quietly, taking a hesitant step towards her.

Diana turned abruptly and strode away, her back very straight.

Clark watched her leave. He stared down at the prone body of Mongul on the ground, and then turned to stare at the others. "We should call the police." He muttered, feeling the excitement he had felt at seeing them all fizzle out. The others nodded in silence, as they took another look at the swiftly departing figure.

_**My novel, Neel Dervin and the Dark Angel, is available for free on Amazon this Saturday and Sunday. Below is the first chapter of the novel:**_

CHAPTER 1: The Best Laid Plans

Doctor Fahim turned away from the screen of the projector to face the two men who were watching him intently.

'And so, gentlemen,' he concluded with a smile, walking towards the table on which his laptop was kept next to a steel container. 'I can say with full confidence that we have at last met with success in our endeavors. The idea that had seemed little more than idle fantasy three decades ago has finally become a reality. I thank you both, as well as the government, for your invaluable support of the project.' The two men leaned forward in their chairs as Doctor Fahim opened the container and carefully drew out a test tube from its casing, holding it up for the others to see.

His guests gazed in silence at the transparent liquid contained in the glass tube. It looked exactly like ordinary water, yet in the glow of the light coming from the projector on the screen, the liquid glistened silver. The men continued to stare spellbound at the contents of the tube for several moments. Both of Doctor Fahim's guests counted among the most powerful men in the country, experienced in matters of national importance for many years. Yet at that moment both their eyes mirrored a look of amazement and child like wonder at the marvel they beheld.

Doctor Fahim held the tube raised in his hand for a few seconds more, sharing in the moment of collective triumph with the other two men. Then he carefully placed the tube back in its casing, leaving the lid of the container open.

The spell of silence that had fallen over the company broke, and the Minister of Defense rose to his feet.

'Our heartiest congratulations.' he said, smiling broadly as he strode forwards to shake Doctor Fahim's hand. 'We were sure that you were the only man in the country who could have succeeded in this endeavor. You have fully justified Doctor Thompson's faith in your ability.'

The doctor returned the smile, the glow from the projector lighting up his profile. He had a very tall and lean figure, with a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. His face was lined and wrinkled with age. But there was no frailty there. The deep, alert eyes indicated the presence of a powerful mind, and the wisdom of experiences vast and numerous which only a lengthy and eventful life could provide. Experiences which today had made him into one of the world's foremost authorities on biotechnology. Yet the exhaustively scholarly life he had led had not dimmed the twinkle in those shrewd eyes. Doctor Fahim laughed quietly as he shook the Minister's hand. 'It was indeed a formidable challenge, Mr. Rai, but it was extremely interesting working in a new field.'

'And the end result was certainly well worth the effort.' the Minister said, beaming. 'I take it that the serum is now ready to be used on human beings, or is there still some work left to be done?'

'The work is complete from your point of interest, gentlemen.' Doctor Fahim said, his voice becoming grave again. He turned to his laptop and selected the final slide from the presentation. 'From a scientific viewpoint, however, an experiment is only considered completely successful when its applications have been tested in real world conditions.' He glanced up reassuringly at the Minister. 'Nevertheless, the results we have obtained up to this point are undeniably conclusive. The effect of the serum on the physiology of the test subject is nothing short of miraculous.' Doctor Fahim turned to the image on the projector screen.

The slide showed the bone and muscle density of a rhesus monkey and a mouse in two stages, one before intake of the serum, and one after. Doctor Fahim pointed to the images. 'As you can see, the entire composition of the subject's bodies have been radically enhanced,' Doctor Fahim turned once again to the two men. 'In practical terms, the intake of this serum would turn a normal person into a being of a much higher mental and physical capacity, with all the benefits of the increased biological efficiency, not the least of which is an enhanced metabolism, and the ability to heal at increased rates. A godsend in times of war.'

The third and final occupant of the room rose as well. In his non-descript civilian clothes, it would have been difficult to identify the man immediately as General Bakshi, the chief of army staff of the Indian military. Only the General's erect and disciplined carriage hinted at the fact that the man was in fact the leader of the largest army in the world. The general's stern and forbidding demeanor was for once relaxed into a smile.

'This is a great day for the Indian Army.' General Bakshi said, coming forward to shake Doctor Fahim's hand as well. 'The effect of this discovery on our armed forces can hardly be underestimated.' The General studied Doctor Fahim intently. 'And considering the importance of this discovery, I must ask you again, before this business is carried over to the next stage; is there any other information, any side effects or the like, that you would like to share with us about the serum, before we begin using it on our soldiers?'

Doctor Fahim glanced at the only partially open window of the small room they were in. The meeting was taking place in a conference room in the south block of the Central Secretariat in Delhi. He remembered passing by several prominent politicians on his way to the meeting. Standing there reminded him now more than ever of the monumental nature of what they were attempting.

The doctor turned slowly to face General Bakshi, a thoughtful expression on his face. He seemed to be debating something in his mind. 'I am glad you brought up the matter.' he said finally in a quiet voice. 'Gentlemen, please take your seats again. There are some concerns of mine regarding this project that I would like to share with you.'

The Defense Minister and the General resumed their seats and turned to face Doctor Fahim, their expressions showing a mixture of curiosity and wariness at the Doctor's grave tone. When the doctor spoke, his voice was very quiet, but it was still clearly audible across the silent room.

'I can think of no better use of this discovery than applying its uses to the defense of our country.' He stared at the General, who was watching him with a slight frown. 'And yet, sir, I cannot help but wonder whether it would be judicious to put such a vast amount of power in the hands of one person.'

The General's eyes narrowed dangerously as he sat up straighter in his chair. 'Doctor, we are grateful for your contribution, but kindly understand your boundaries. How we use the serum is for us to decide. Rest assured that the power of the serum will not be misused in our hands.'

'And what will happen, General, if those who hold that power in their hands no longer feel the need to follow your orders?' Doctor Fahim did not look away, but met the General Bakshi's gaze squarely.

'A soldier is taught to be responsible and logical in all his decisions.' the General said. His voice had grown sharper. It was the voice of a man not used to having his directives questioned. 'Serving the country is every soldier‟s passion, Doctor Fahim, a passion that an ordinary civilian can never truly understand.'

'I am sure that is what you teach your troops.' the doctor countered. 'But you cannot deny that many people who become soldiers have other, less honorable reasons. There have been cases in history when soldiers rebelled, and their mutiny caused great damage. How can we be sure-'

'We understand your concerns, doctor.' the Minister interrupted in a gentle voice, even as the General opened his mouth angrily. 'That possibility has already occurred to us. We intend in the beginning to use the serum on an extremely select group of candidates who have excelled in every field of the defense service, and whose loyalty is beyond question. And even then we will be starting with a single test subject for now. That person will be the first agent under the project, our first Alpha Soldier.'

'Then I have your word, gentlemen, that my work will not be misused in any way?' The doctor looked at the two men seriously.

'You have our word.' the defense Minister replied, his eyes unwavering as they looked into Doctor Fahim's. The General said nothing, but his gaze did not falter either.

Doctor Fahim nodded, and the lines around his eyes seemed to lighten. 'Then I can rest easy in my mind. Forgive me if I offended you, General, but I needed to make sure.'

'And now that we have assuaged your conscience,' General Bakshi said as he rose, not attempting to conceal the impatience in his voice. 'Perhaps we can move onto the next phase of the project. Our work is far from over, Doctor Fahim. In fact, for all intents and purpose, it is just beginning. We can count on your total cooperation?'

Doctor Fahim inclined his head. 'Yes, General. We continue on.'

'Excellent.' Mr. Rai rose as well. 'Then we will say goodbye for now. We will see you tomorrow when we start the next phase of Project Alpha.' Doctor Fahim nodded quietly.

'You have the remainder of the day to clear out your laboratory.' the General spoke somewhat brusquely, his voice indicating that he had not forgotten their argument. 'All physical evidence of the experiments you conducted for Project Alpha must be destroyed. All the chemicals removed, and the test subjects readied for transfer. A team will come to the lab at twenty two hundred hours tonight to wipe down the area and replace the memory banks from your computer. Good day.' The General turned away without another word and strode out the room. Mr. Rai shook Doctor Fahim's hand one last time and left as well.

The doctor let out a low sigh as he turned off the projector and switched on the lights. The meeting had been a success, all things considered. Yet he could not summon any enthusiasm for the moment. He pressed his temple, staving off the headache that had been building up since the morning. There were too many things to think about, and not enough time to deliberate upon them all. The General and the Defense Minister were both good men, each in their own way. But the three of them working side by side was not going to be an easy task. The other two were both leaders of men, and he had the distinct feeling that his role in the project from this point onwards was going to be drastically curtailed.

Doctor Fahim left the conference room carrying the steel safe at his side. It was not very heavy, and it was not something that could be trusted to an unknown person's care. As he came out of the conference room, his assistant Divya Nayak rose from her chair and came forward to meet him. At a height of five feet and nine inches, with fine, even features, a delicate figure and long black hair, she looked more like a model than a scientist. This was a misleading appearance, since she had proven herself to be a worthy student to the doctor, and had been working with him for three years on the project. She looked at the doctor expectantly as he came up to her.

'The meeting was as fraught with interest as we were expecting it to be.' Doctor Fahim said with a smile. 'I‟m afraid my standing has gone down somewhat in General Bakshi‟s estimate. But we are nearing the end of this stage of the project. They want us to tie up the loose ends of our work and finish up the research by tonight to have the serum ready for transport to the army lab. Unfortunately, if we are to have everything ready by tomorrow, I will need to have a talk with Doctor Mathur as soon as possible to prepare for the cognitive training of the subject. So I need you to get the serum to my office.'

Divya nodded, conscious of the enormous responsibility that Doctor Fahim was entrusting her with. Aside from the doctor, she was the only civilian who was aware of the existence of Project Alpha, and his trust meant a great deal to her. 'Of course, sir.' she said, 'I'll get it to the lab immediately.'

Divya sat in her car at the four way intersection, waiting for the signal to change. Traffic in Delhi is consistently rated among the worst in the world, with extremely aggressive drivers and frequent flouting of the road rules. Accidents happen frequently, and the congestion on the road means frequent delays at stop signals, something that Divya had been forced to become used to. As she waited, her mind wandered over the events of the day. She sighed, feeling like a small paper boat caught up in a tidal wave, vast and relentless in its progress. They had now reached a point of no return in their research. The project was a day away from being converted into a top secret military operation. Stepping back from the business was now impossible, as was walking away from the whole thing.

Divya wondered what kind of a future the use of the serum would lead them to. In her mind's eye an army of Alpha soldiers rose up before her. They would be unstoppable. Indestructible. The balance of power would shift in India‟s favor at the global level, with the most powerful army in the world under its command.

A shiver ran down Divya's spine, even as the sun beat down mercilessly outside. She could not help but feel uneasy about the image that her mind had conjured up. So much power in the hands of a select few, with someone like General Bakshi at the helm. Divya knew the general was a decorated war hero, acknowledged to be one of the ablest generals in the history of the Indian army. But he was also known to be completely ruthless in his dealings with people, even his own troops. Friends and foes were not very different for the General, and everyone was suspect until proven innocent. A man like that leading an army of super soldiers…

Divya shook her head slightly, breaking out of her dark reverie. She was being paranoid. The project was supposed to help the world. That had always been the primary motivation, right back to all those years ago in Africa, when Doctor Fahim had worked with Doctor Thompson, alone and without any sponsors. There they had laid the seeds of their work, and now it had come to fruition. The serum would make the world a better place, a safer place. She took her minds off the involvement of the army and focused on the serum instead. She glanced to her right at the container lying innocently on the seat beside her. Inside the container lay the key to more power than anything the world had seen before. She checked the lock again. Tomorrow, the serum would be in the hands of the military, and then they would see exactly what the serum could do for mankind.

Divya looked out of the window, watching the people waiting with her at the stop. Some were on motorcycles, some were inside cars like her. There was also a young boy sitting on his bicycle, his eyes on the traffic light. He had a schoolbag strapped to his shoulders. Divya guessed he was on his way to tuitions.

Seeing the boy opened a new train of thought, as it brought to Divya‟s mind the remarkable effect the serum had on youngsters. Divya studied the boy. He had a thin frame. Not in a starved way, but in the awkward, pubescent stage way. There was a slightly childish quality to his face, with soft features that were not yet fully formed. The cycle was slightly too big for him, and he was resting the tip of one foot on the ground as he waited. She guessed his age to be around twelve or thirteen.

The boy was staring into the distance. Divya followed his gaze to one of the buildings with a billboard on the side with some advertisement. It seemed a bland enough piece of work. For a moment, she thought she saw a flutter of dark cloth over the edge of the building, but in the time it took to blink it had disappeared. She stared at the road again, her mind back on the task at hand.

When the light changed to green, she put her car in gear and prepared to move forward. Suddenly her phone began to ring. She took her foot off the accelerator and opened her purse.

Taking out her phone, she saw that the number was an unknown one. She turned on the loudspeaker on her mobile and waited, but no sound came. 'Hello?' she said into the speaker, but a sudden burst of static was all she heard before the line went dead.

Puzzled, she switched her phone off and again started her car, but the boy had now moved in front of her and she paused to let him pass. She bent down to replace her phone in her purse.

Which was why she missed witnessing the accident.

The whole incident was over so quickly that for a moment passersby could only stare in shock. The boy moved forward to the middle of the road, and a giant black sumo raced up the road to his left. The boy had barely time to turn his head before the car had crashed into him. The impact of metal against metal and the squeal of rubber tires produced an ugly, high pitched screech. Before anyone could react, the sumo was gone, racing on down the road at an even faster speed.

The boy was thrown into the air from the impact, landing ten feet away, and lay there unmoving. The rest of the onlookers were too horrified to do anything but stare. Divya got out of her car and ran to the inert form stretched out on the road. She knelt beside him, and for a moment all she could do was stare in horror as well. His arm had been totally mangled. There was blood pouring out of his skull and the right side of his ribcage had caved in.

'You! Help me get him inside my car.' Divya shouted to one of the onlookers, a man in a blue shirt who looked thoroughly unnerved. A crowd had begun to gather rapidly on the spot. Between the two of them they managed to get the boy inside her car, away from the blistering sun. 'Call a hospital. Tell them to bring an ambulance.' She told the man. He walked off quickly, fumbling for his mobile, the front of his blue shirt now stained with dark red blood.

As he disappeared, Divya knew it would be too late. The boy‟s condition was critical. Even without a stethoscope she could almost hear his heartbeat slowing. She shook off the helplessness she felt and grabbed the box containing the serum, placing it under the front passenger seat. No one should see the container when the ambulance came-

Divya stopped, her hand still on the container. For a long moment she stared at the handle of the container. Slowly, she placed the box back on the seat.

Now that the shock was wearing off, her mind was beginning to function normally again. The analytical side of her brain was computing the chances of the boy living till the ambulance arrived, while a separate part of her mind was replaying flashes of a conversation she had had with Doctor Fahim months ago. '_This serum is going to be particularly helpful in times of war.' _He had said._'The recovery speed from wounds and the healing rate for the subject is phenomenal.' _He had laughed then, the pride of the creator in his voice. _'I'm almost tempted to put it on the market as medicine.'_

Divya stood frozen, bent over her car seat, feeling oddly detached from the scene around her. Her mind was wrestling with the implications of what she was contemplating doing, and the repercussions her actions might bring. And yet it was the only way, the only hope there was for saving the boy‟s life. Thoughts blew a whirlwind in Divya‟s mind. Arguments and counter arguments. The work and effort that had gone into making the serum. The importance it held for the entire nation. Her duty towards the project. Towards her country.

However, after all had been said and done, there was only one reality. The image of the boy taking his last breath in front of her. Divya knew she had no choice.

Her fingers flew over the combination lock. Within seconds, she had taken the serum out of the container, raised the boy‟s head from the seat and was helping him gulp down the liquid.

Divya was pacing the floor of a private room in the hospital. Twenty minutes ago, the ambulance had rushed the injured boy to the emergency room, and he was currently being operated upon. Divya had called Doctor Fahim, who was still at the secretariat. She had given him a brief account of what had happened and where she was. After the initial shock and subsequent inquiries, Doctor Fahim had instructed her to stay at the hospital, and was now on his way over with Mr. Rai and General Bakshi.

Divya paced the room, waiting. A part of her was still reeling in shock at what she had done. The other part was wondering what they were going to do to her. Her decision had been mainly instinctive, and now that she had time to think beyond that decision, the future looked very bleak. She had been trusted with a literally priceless piece of government property, and had managed to lose it in less than an hour. Even worse, she had involved a civilian, a teenage boy, in a top secret government project. She knew offenders had been executed for lesser crimes before.

'Miss!' A frightened voice came from the door. Divya turned. A nurse was peeping at her from behind the half opened door.

'Some men are looking for you, Miss.' the nurse said in a whisper. 'They‟re turning the hospital upside down. One of them seems to be a military man of some sort. He was insisting that they be allowed to see the injured boy you brought in, even though the doctors tried to tell him that the boy was being operated on. But then the other two men managed to persuade him to wait. And now they‟re asking for you.'

Divya nodded. 'They are friends of mine.' she said. It was an odd way of referring to the three men, two of whom would quite possibly want to have her jailed, but it was better than revealing their true identity. 'Could you tell them that I am waiting for them here? We will need some privacy.'

The nurse nodded and scurried off. Divya resumed her pacing, her hands feeling clammy with sweat. In the past few years she had matured a lot, and had become used to fending for herself, yet her heart quailed at the thought of meeting General Bakshi now.

A minute later she heard a series of rapid footsteps outside, and upraised voices. She turned to face the door, inwardly steeling herself.

The door burst open, and three deeply disturbed men entered the room. The Defense Minister was in the lead. Lines of worry creased his forehead. The General was right behind him, his mouth tightened into a line of fury. Doctor Fahim came in last. He shot a look of inquiry at Divya, his eyes full of concern. The sight of Doctor Fahim was reassuring, and Divya felt slightly more confident. Doctor Fahim turned and locked the door, sealing the room behind them.

'What have you done?' the General shouted without preamble, his face a deep shade of red. 'What monumental stupidity possessed you to behave in this manner? _Answer me_, _Miss Nayak_!'

Divya took a deep breath. 'I did what I thought was right, sir.' she spoke as evenly as she could. 'The boy was dying in front of my eyes. The serum was the only thing that could have saved him. It seemed to be the only course to pursue.'

'The only course?' the General spluttered. His face was growing steadily redder. 'And who gave you the right to decide how to make use of a piece of government property? Who said you could involve in a private matter technology intended _specifically _for the use of the Indian army?'

'Calm down, General.' Doctor Fahim said, coming to stand next to the Minister and the general.

'Don‟t tell me to calm down, Doctor Fahim.' the General turned to glare at the doctor. 'Do you realize what she has done? In less than an hour we have lost the single greatest tactical advantage in the history of the armed forces, something that could have single handedly turned the rules of modern warfare on its head. And instead we have gotten a massive casualty on our hands in the form of a child with the power of a demon. And even _that _is provided he survives the operation, which does not at all seem likely at the moment, in which case the power of the serum will be lost forever. I want to know what she has to say for herself. Why was she even given the serum? You were the one who was supposed to get the serum to the lab.'

'Which is what I would have done if your plans for getting the project ready by tomorrow had not forced me to change my plans regarding the training program of the subject.' Doctor Fahim said calmly. 'I had to talk to Doctor Mathur about the therapy techniques we intend to use on the Alpha Soldiers. I therefore instructed Divya to take the serum to the lab.'

'And how did she know the combination for opening the safe containing the serum?' the General growled, his eyes narrowing. 'Do you routinely share critical information of that sort with your subordinates?'

'She knew because I had told her.' Doctor Fahim said, his voice becoming sharper. 'Kindly do not make unfounded and damaging insinuations against Miss Nayak, General. This accident was not a private matter, as you called it just now. This serum was designed to help people, which is what she did. Divya has worked on this project with me for the last four years, and I trust her implicitly.'

'But I'm afraid _I _do not trust her, Doctor Fahim.' the General said, breathing hard as he stared at the doctor. 'And I do not trust you either. This is why I was against using civilians in the project in the first place. They can never be trusted to follow orders.'

'Calm down, General.' the defense Minister now spoke up, putting a hand on the General's shoulder. 'We cannot change the past. What has already happened is beyond our control. We need to decide how to deal with this new situation. Miss Nayak, will you tell us exactly what happened? We only know the barest details.'

Divya took a deep breath and began to tell them what had happened at the intersection; the accident, the boy‟s broken body landing on the road, his life ending in front of her, and then the serum. The three men listened in silence.

'I didn‟t think I had a choice.' Divya said. She looked at Doctor Fahim almost pleadingly. 'The boy was dying in front of me.'

'It was the only course to pursue, Divya.' Doctor Fahim said quietly. 'You did what any decent human being would have done. We cannot blame you for it.' The General shot a look at the doctor, but did not say anything. Doctor Fahim ignored him.

'I called the police on the way over.' the General said. 'The man who was driving the car was caught two miles later. Some idiot with too much alcohol in his body. He will be jailed, of course, but the damage has been done.'

'The question now is, what do we do with the boy?' the Minister said. He stared abstractedly at a nearby table, his forehead still creased with worry. 'Provided he even survives the operation.' He turned to Doctor Fahim. 'Do you think he will survive, Doctor Fahim?'

'It would depend on how long he can be kept alive for the serum to take effect on his body.' Doctor Fahim said slowly. 'I have already mentioned how remarkable the effect of the serum is on the healing ability of the subject. I believe there is an excellent chance that he will survive the operation.'

'So after all our preparations for an Alpha Soldier, instead we are stuck with an Alpha child?' General Bakshi was no longer shouting, but the frown was still in place.

'I‟m afraid you do not fully understand, General.' Doctor Fahim said quietly, a strange expression on his face. He glanced at Divya. 'There is a side to this new situation that you are not aware of.'

'What do you mean?' the defense Minister was looking at Doctor Fahim warily.

'There is a curious property of the serum that I have not yet shared with either of you.' Doctor Fahim said slowly.

'At the secretariat, you said that you had told us everything.' the Minister said, his voice less calm than before.

'Everything that had a bearing on Project Alpha.' Doctor Fahim said. 'But there was a host of additional information related to our experiments that would have taken too long to relate.'

'So what part of that information has suddenly become relevant to the project?' General Bakshi stared hard at Doctor Fahim.

Divya watched the three men, hardly daring to breathe. The information that Doctor Fahim was about to give the other two men would show them how the situation had become much more complicated then they believed.

'The serum was tested on fully grown chimps, and the increased muscular and neural capacity they exhibited was entirely satisfactory.' Doctor Fahim said. 'But a curious fact was

noticed when the chimp in question was younger. The effect of the serum seemed to be compounded in their case.'

Doctor Fahim looked at the two men significantly, but from their expressions it was clear that they did not understand the implications of this discovery.

'It seems that the reason behind this augmentation is that the serum directly affects the glands which are responsible for the growth of the body during adolescence.' Doctor Fahim continued.

'At this stage of the operation, I believe the behavior of test monkeys might be considered superfluous, Doctor Fahim.' the General said impatiently. 'How would this detail affect humans?'

Doctor Fahim stared at the door for a second. He turned towards the General and spoke slowly.

'Provided that the effect of the serum is the same on humans as on the monkeys, the serum will increase the abilities of a normal man roughly five-fold.' He paused. 'However, it will increase the abilities of someone whose body is already developing by natural processes by ten-fold or perhaps even twenty-fold.'

There was complete silence in the room as the two men realized what Doctor Fahim meant.

'By „someone‟,' the defense Minister said slowly, 'You mean youngsters?'

'A youngster like the one who has suffered the accident?' the General‟s voice was rising again rapidly.

Doctor Fahim inclined his head. 'According to Divya, he is a teenager. That means, _if _he survives, all the physical and mental enhancements we were expecting in the case of the soldiers will be much greater in his case.'

Mr. Rai was staring at Doctor Fahim in blank shock. The General turned and walked away slowly, breathing hard. Perhaps it was the thought that they were in a public area that made the General attempt to deal with his agitation through movement rather than more yelling.

'So this boy…' the General spoke, and Divya was surprised at how calm he sounded. 'This teenager. He will be even stronger than we had anticipated?'

Doctor Fahim nodded somberly. 'His power will be greater than anything the world has ever seen before.'

The four occupants of the room gazed at each other in silence.

The Defense Minister closed his eyes, composing himself as he tried to process all the information. His shoulders slumped as the full extent of the situation was borne upon him.

'We need to talk about this to the Prime Minister.' he said finally, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 'Please excuse us.'

The General and the Minister left the room. Only Doctor Fahim was left with Divya. He looked at her in silence for several seconds. Then he smiled a rueful smile. 'The best laid plans washed down the drain by a single unfortunate occurrence, right, Divya?'

'I‟m so sorry, sir.' Divya whispered. Her voice was tight with anxiety. 'I wasn‟t thinking about the consequences of my actions. And now I‟ve cost the army the project, and I‟ve cost you all the research you did.'

'Don‟t let the General‟s harangue scare you.' Doctor Fahim said gently. 'Given the circumstances, you did the right thing. That is all anyone can ask for. This situation is the product of an accident, so stop blaming yourself.'

'What will happen now, sir?' Divya asked soberly.

'Well, given the unusual circumstances that this project had fallen upon, I think we will need an unusual solution.' Doctor Fahim said thoughtfully. 'Now, we will have the opportunity to observe a very interesting part of the experiment'

'A teenage meta human.' Divya nodded.

'Actually, I was referring to how apoplectic the general will become before he has a heart attack and expires.' the doctor said, his eyes twinkling.

Despite the gravity of the situation Divya could not help but laugh in a low voice.

'I cannot predict how this new situation will affect the overall plan anymore than you can, Divya.' Doctor Fahim said, his voice serious again. 'But rest assured, this is not the end of the project. The General is too determined a man to be stopped by stumbling blocks, and the Minister is no less tenacious. The project will continue forward, one way or the other. The child now….' Doctor Fahim frowned thoughtfully and shrugged his shoulders. 'The child I am not so sure about. I believe he will survive, but you can never be completely sure. We will simply have to wait and see.'

Nurse Arti sat nervously in the private ward. She was only a few months into this job, and it was the first time she had been assigned to this particular ward. The room was small but comfortably furnished, with more amenities than the usual private hospital room provided. It was kept separate from the other rooms, and was used for patients who required peace and quiet to recover, or when someone well known or important was in the hospital and wished to keep a low profile. On the single bed in front of her slept a young boy. It was the same boy who had been admitted to the hospital two days ago. He had been heavily sedated following the surgery, and had slept for an uninterrupted twelve hours. He had woken up briefly in a half delirious state yesterday and fallen asleep again immediately. After the surgery the doctors had not been very hopeful that he would survive such a serious accident, although they admitted that his vital signs were very strong for someone who had suffered such grave injuries. The boy‟s mother had arrived in a haze of panic the day before. She had

been calmed down and assured that her son was in the best possible care. The mother had since been visiting the hospital regularly, if only to check on her still sleeping son.

The nurse wondered who the boy was. He had to be related to someone very important, judging by the number of important people who seemed to be concerned about his welfare. It was remarkable how quickly the usual red tape had been dealt with, and the boy transferred to the most privileged room in the hospital. There were rumors among the hospital staff that someone very high up in the government was interested in the boy‟s well being, and it was speculated whether he was a Minister‟s son. But the security around the boy‟s identity was air tight, and it was said that even the doctors who were treating him knew almost nothing about his civilian identity. Even the rumor grapevine of the hospital had been unable to extract any details.

The boy suddenly stirred. Arti was startled out of her musings. She looked at the young patient. He was waking up, and much earlier than the doctors had hoped for. At these times it was usual to bring in the doctor in charge of the patient and the patient‟s relatives. This time, however, nurse Arti had different orders.

She went out of the door and hurried down the corridor. Turning around a corner, she knocked on the door to her left. A voice called, 'Come in.'

Arti opened the door and stepped halfway through. Inside the room sat a white haired old man with a neat beard and moustache, and a girl who seemed to be in her early twenties. They were both poring over some biometric data sheets spread out in front of them. They looked up as the nurse‟s head appeared.

'Yes?' the old man said.

'Please, sir.' Nurse Arti said, her voice slightly breathless. 'The boy is waking up.'

Both the occupants of the room immediately became alert. The old man stood up and nodded. 'Thank you, nurse. Kindly go and inform a man named Mr. Bakshi about this. You will find him in the head doctor‟s office downstairs. He will then tell you what to do.' The nurse nodded and disappeared.

'The recovery was even faster than we had anticipated.' Doctor Fahim said softly, putting the sheets which the two had been studying back in their folder. He reached inside the small drawer in the desk and extracted a special mobile phone General Bakshi had given him. Turning it on, he placed it carefully in his shirt pocket. 'Do you have the recorder, Divya?'

'Yes, sir.' Divya said. She reached inside her handbag lying on the table and pulled out a tiny tape recorder, placing it in her pocket.

'Good.' Doctor Fahim said. He gazed at Divya for a moment, both aware of the magnitude of that moment. 'Are you ready?' Divya nodded mutely.

'Let‟s go.' The two walked out of the door, retracing the path the nurse had taken to call them. They stood outside the room 449. Doctor Fahim paused at the door for a moment, his hand on the knob. No sounds came from inside. He pushed open the door and the two entered the room.

Inside the small, cozy room, they found the young boy sitting up straight in his bed, his eyes closed tightly. He froze at the sound of the door opening, and slowly opened his eyes.

'Hello, Neel.' Doctor Fahim said softly, his gaze intent as he stared at the young boy.


End file.
